


Personal Demons

by Eyeofthehurricane



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/F, Healing, I'm at chapter 15 and I only just realized I forgot Bellamy...whoops?, Military, Neighbors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roommates, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6680611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyeofthehurricane/pseuds/Eyeofthehurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marine Clarke Griffin shows up at Raven's apartment after a horrific experience. Closed off and all over the place, can Raven's mysterious next door neighbor help Clarke move forward and start to live again?</p><p>or...</p><p>The one where Clarke and Lexa meet in a stairwell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clarke shows up

Clarke looked at the building across the street, pausing to triple-check a slip of torn paper in her hand. Shoving the address in her back pocket, she took a deep breath and shouldered her pack, navigating through the minimal traffic to the front entryway. She noted the front was unlocked, but that there was a doorman on duty that looked up immediately, and a few cameras scattered throughout the small lobby. A secure building.

“Can I help you, miss?” The man asked, smiling in welcome.

“I’m here to see Raven Reyes?” She answered him, hating how her voice came out unsteady, and that the statement came out a question. The doorman, whose nametag said ‘Miller’, nodded and turned to his phone, dialing what she assumed was Raven’s number without consulting any type of list. Clarke noted this, as well as several other details about this man: he was reasonably fit, wore corrective lenses, had a wedding ring and clearly starched his uniform.

“Name?” He asked as soon as he finished punching numbers.

“Griffin…Clarke Griffin,” she hastily gave her full name, shifting uncomfortably. She could hear the ringing from the earpiece as Miller the doorman studied her in turn. Clarke knew what he saw: dark circles, blonde hair tied tightly back, a rigid posture. Her snap judgment told her that he was familiar with military personnel.

After a moment, the man hung up the phone. “Miss Reyes is not answering her phone. She is perhaps out for the day. Would you prefer to wait?” Clarke glanced around the bare lobby.

“Yes. I’ll just wait outside, thank you.” She nodded and headed out the door to the warm sunshine, tossing her pack down as she sat just beside the door, back against the building. Sighing, she pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and tilted her head back, resting it against the warm concrete. At least she had the correct building.

Clarke didn’t know how long she sat there, watching people go back and forth along the sidewalk, go in and out of various buildings- she took note in particular of the people going into and coming from Raven’s building. Most didn’t look up from their phones or spare their surroundings a glance-too intent on getting where they were going. The sun was starting to go down when she finally saw Raven walking toward the building, wearing what looked to be workout gear. The gym bag slung over one shoulder and the ear buds attached to the device she was playing with further evidenced this.

Clarke pulled off her sunglasses and rose to her feet, causing Raven’s eyes to be drawn to the movement. She paused comically, doing a double take, her eyes darting around Clarke’s face. Clarke smiled awkwardly, taking a moment to assess the other girl. She hadn’t seen her in a while, and tried not to let her eyes be drawn to the brace on one leg: instead, she studied the cycle of expressions on Raven’s face: her dark eyes showed confusion and surprise, so Clarke spoke first.

“Hey, Reyes.”

“Sarge.” Clarke fiddled with her hands nervously, suddenly apprehensive about coming here when Raven’s face twisted into a frown. They looked at each other in silence for a moment, before Raven asked the question.

“What the hell are you doing here, Griffin?” Clarke looked down as she scuffed her feet, not seeing how Raven’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the action.

“I didn’t know anyone else in the city. I’m moving back and need a place to stay for a few days.” Clarke glanced up quickly, noted Raven’s frown and glanced back down again, rushing on:  
“I’m sorry, we haven’t spoken in two years, I shouldn’t have…”

“Shut the hell up.” Clarke was startled into meeting Raven’s eyes, which had softened just a bit. “Of course you can stay. As long as you need, seriously. I have an extra room that has your name on it.” And that was that. Raven swooped down and swung Clarke’s pack onto the opposite shoulder as her gym bag. Clarke started to protest as she followed Raven inside, but Raven cut her off. “I may have a brace, but your mother does good work. I’m not a total invalid.” Clarke’s jaw snapped shut. Raven waved at Miller the doorman, who smiled back, nodding at Clarke as she and Raven got into the elevator.

As the door closed, Raven spoke again.

“Have you been to see Abby?” Clarke pursed her lips.

“No, but she knows I’m back. I’ve been stateside for a few months, wrapping things up with…”she stumbled, trailing off. She saw Raven’s knuckles whiten.

“With what happened to Finn and the rest of your squad? They opened an investigation, his father told me.” Clarke swallowed.

“Yes. It’s settled now, though. I officially retired last Friday.” Sensing the slight change in topic, Raven let it go.

“Congrats to you. And you decided to move here.”

“Thought I could use a change of scenery.”

The doors opened on the eleventh floor, and Clarke stepped out into a brightly lit hallway with only two doors. Raven led the way to the door on the right and, after juggling with her keys, shoved the door open.

“Mi casa es su casa. It’s nice on this floor because I only have one other neighbor, and she is super quiet. Only seen her a few times in the year I’ve been here actually. She works some pretty weird hours, is gone sometimes for a while. Let me show you around the place.” It was modern and had an open floor plan. There was a large kitchen- Clarke knew Raven didn’t cook, so she found some amusement in this- as well as a clear dining area and a huge entertainment system and lounge area. There was even a pool table and dartboard in one corner, as well as a small home gym. There were four doors leading from the living area that were closed. Raven pointed to the door furthest away, near the back corner.

“My room,” she said, slinging her gym back next to the giant couch. Pointing to the middle door on the same wall, she went on, “storage room, mostly holds my mech gear, plus the laundry. This can be your room. It’s supposed to be a guest room, but I don’t really do guests.” She pointed across the living area. “That’s a half bath, but both the bedrooms have their own bathroom.” She chuckled seeing Clarke’s amusement. “I know, it’s excessive. But you’ll get your own space!” Clarke stepped into her room, noting the plain but tasteful furniture, as well as the big windows that overlooked a nearby park. Raven dumped Clarke’s pack on the floor by the entrance of Clarke’s new room.

“You also get access to the fire escape, so don’t leave the windows unlocked too much. Not that I think anyone will be able to get up here, but you never know.” Switching gears, Raven went on, “I’ve got to shower, I’m truly feeling gross. Make yourself at home!” Without another word, she disappeared into her own room.

Clarke put her bag down heavily and sat on the end of the bed. She and Raven had some prior issues that they’d mostly worked out, but she was a loyal friend and an honest person. She had to be burning with questions about why Clarke had shown up without warning, but she kept them all to herself, instinctively knowing when Clarke wasn’t ready to talk.

Clarke felt she could definitely live here. For now, at least.

\---------

After a quiet few days- Raven, who worked as a development engineer for a biotech firm, was working on a project that involved long hours- in which Clarke learned her way around locally, Raven asked if she felt up to hosting a movie night with a few of her friends. After verifying that it would be a limited number of people ( Clarke wasn’t entirely comfortable around large crowds of strangers), Clarke agreed. 

The first to arrive were two of Raven’s co-workers, who exuberantly introduced themselves as Monty and Jasper- Clarke immediately was confused on who was who, but they were amusing and very friendly. The jostled each other light-heartedly when staking spots on Raven’s expansive couch, and Clarke enjoyed their naive banter where normally it would just annoy her. Finally, nearly an hour late, came Raven’s physical therapist, Octavia. A small woman with long dark hair, Octavia greeted Clarke enthusiastically by insisting on a hug. Raven shrugged in response to Clarke’s questioning look, snatching the case of beer from Octavia’s hand before she dropped it on the floor. Octavia reminded Clarke somewhat of a caged animal: constantly moving with a grace and energy that seemed coiled in and ready to burst at any moment.

The night proceeded normally, and Clarke felt herself gradually relax as the group interacted casually. They demolished the pizza that was ordered upon Octavia’s arrival and they all had a few beers. They finally settled down around the TV and Octavia popped a movie into the DVD player, laughing at some ridiculous thing that Jasper (or was it Monty?) said. Clarke was just coming from the kitchen, two fresh beers in her hands (one for Raven) when she recognized the film and smiled. Call her cheesy, but she loved Slumdog Millionaire, mostly because of the happy ending and integrated story. She hadn’t seen the film in many years- not since she’d been in high school.

Evidently she’d completely forgotten about the opening scene. When the interrogator slapped Jamal’s face, Clarke’s vision went white and she lost all function of her body. The people on the couch all turned to look when the beer bottles _thunked_ loudly on the hardwood floor. Clarke stared, unseeing, at the amber liquid pouring out of the bottles at her feet. She heard a muffled expletive- Raven?- and suddenly silence.

“...Griff....” The voice was far away. She couldn’t _see_ , couldn’t _feel_ , her entire body numb except the clear racing of her pulse.

“Griffin!” There was a vague shape in front of her, there was light around her, and slowly Raven came into focus, alarm covering her face. Clarke snapped back.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll go get stuff to clean…” She turned away from the faces she could see looking in her direction, and looked wildly for something to focus on.

“Clarke.” Raven’s voice was softer, and Clarke felt a hand on her arm. She paused, still riddled with tension, still breathing short, sharp gasps. Raven murmured softly so that the others couldn’t hear, “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll clean up, and we can pick another movie.” Clarke spared a glance at the strangers on the couch, still looking at her, and gulped.

“I’m just going to head to bed.” She needed to get _out_ from their stares. Didn’t need Raven to look at her in sympathy, didn’t want to answer questions that were impossible. She wrenched her arm free (Raven let her go easily) and spun on her heel, quickly shutting her door. She heard someone begin to ask the questions from the other side of the door, and suddenly she couldn’t even be in the apartment.

Crossing her room swiftly, Clarke wrenched open her window and stepped onto the fire escape, descending quickly to the street level (she had to dangle the last story and drop, but she managed it easily). She began a brisk walk in a random direction, and then began to run.

Clarke ran for what felt like hours, directionless and with only the thought to clear her mind. She wasn’t dressed for running- she garnered a lot of strange looks from the evening crowd of party-goers and bums, and she almost immediately lost the sandals she’d been wearing inside the apartment. When she finally stopped running she was outside what looked to be a university library. It was late, but the building seemed to be open.

Pushing through the doors, Clarke found the stairs quickly from the library and made her way to the basement, near an emergency exit. There, she curled up in a dark corner and breathed, trying to release the thoughts that were threatening to consume her. After a long while, she drifted into a restless sleep, her mind foggy with memories.


	2. In the stairwell

Exhausted after a long day of endless meetings and negotiation, Lexa was relieved to arrive on her floor at last. Relieved, that is, until the elevator doors opened on a group of three unfamiliar people. She blinked, eyes quickly darting to assure she’d stopped on the correct floor. Yes, floor 11.

“Please move.” She demanded quietly, arching an eyebrow. Lexa smirked internally as the people- a girl and two boys- parted hastily to let her pass. She noted the frown on the girls’ face, and thought, _I said it nicely. She’s lucky she got that much._ The three moved into the elevator and Lexa heard the door slide shut behind her as she pulled out her keys. Raven’s door was still cracked, and Lexa heard her neighbor speaking to someone.

“Yeah, Abby. She’s been staying with me and just took off.” A pause. “No, no. Don’t come over. I know I wasn’t there when it happened, but I’m the one she reached out to. I can relate better than most, and _knew_ them, ya know?” Another pause. “She’ll come back, all her shit’s here, and even though she’s been through two deployments since we were over there together, I think I can help.” Another pause, but Lexa was over her threshold and she shut her door, pondering the small bit she’d overheard.

So Raven had a friend staying with her. Lexa, who had her bedroom situated for fire-escape access, had heard vague sounds of someone living in the room next door, but hadn’t actually talked to Raven much and had simply assumed that the girl had just changed rooms.

But that wasn’t the case. It was someone having a difficult time of some sort, possibly related to military service deployment. Lexa frowned as she changed into her nightclothes and brushed her teeth, allowing thoughts of her childhood on various bases to come to the forefront of her mind. She heard a loud grunt of frustration from next door and assumed Raven was having very little success.

Lexa found herself reflecting on the drama next door (whatever it may be) before opening her journal and beginning to catalogue her thoughts for the day. Turning off her light a few minutes later, she rolled over and was instantly asleep.

\---------

Lexa was running a little behind schedule the next morning. She’d have to cut her gym time down, but it was not the worst thing in the world. She’d received an early morning call from an associate in Tokyo whom had no sense of decency _and_ nothing truly important to talk about. Frowning in annoyance, she tapped her foot as she waited for the elevator. The ding as it arrived caused her neighbors door to open immediately.

“Griffin?” Lexa turned and noted Raven’s disheveled appearance. She’d clearly been up all night. Lexa said nothing, clearly she was not this Griffin person. Raven rubbed her eyes sleepily. “Oh, Lexa. Hey. Did you by any chance see a blonde girl leaving the building last night?” Lexa shook her head negatively and Raven surged on, offering up information that was neither necessary or interesting to Lexa. “My friend has been staying here, and she got a bit upset last night. She took off and hasn’t come back, I think she went out the fire escape.” Lexa backed into the elevator.

“I have not seen your friend.” Raven’s face fell and Lexa was inwardly amused to note she looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well, I’m not sure she’s staying or if she’s coming back, but if you see a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that kinda looks all frowny…” Lexa got in a nod before the doors closed on her chatty neighbor.

Waving at Miller as she exited the door, Lexa made her ways to the gym where she endured a high-intensity workout with her training partner, Anya.

“You were late.” Anya stated. Lexa shrugged, just finishing her cool-down run.

“Call from Japan.”

“Good one?”

“No.” Lexa had met Anya a few years back when they had both attended the same cycling class, and she genuinely enjoyed the taller girls’ company. Anya didn’t seem to mind her stoicism, and didn’t insist on shoving her nose into Lexa’s business. Lexa would even go so far as to call her a friend. Anya was one of the few people in the city that had her personal cell number, and they occasionally met up outside of their training sessions.

Lexa received a call from her assistant, Indra, as she was heading back to her building. The call was to notify her that her morning meeting had been rescheduled. Lexa was secretly relieved, and informed Indra that she would be coming in late and doing some work from home. She walked past the elevators and started climbing the stairs, thinking it would make up for the shortened workout of the morning. She was rounding the last half flight when she came upon someone leaning against the wall, staring at the door to floor eleven. There was an overlarge grey hoodie obstructing most of their face.

“The door will not open itself.” She commented, pausing. The girl turned toward her and Lexa felt the air leave her lungs. Her heart started beating faster and she struggled to clamp down on any outward emotional reaction. The girl had piercing blue eyes that swept Lexa from head to toe and only years in a board room dominated by men who thought she was too young and too female helped Lexa hold her ground. The scrutiny was quick and professional, and Lexa knew that this girl missed very little-she was a reader, someone that had exceptional judgment and a strong amount of empathy.

The girl huffed and turned away.

“I’m waiting for my friend to leave so I can get my things and go.” Lexa frowned as she watched this beautiful girl-she assumed it was Raven’s friend Griffin-shut down from her initial interest. Normally she admired a person that could detach their emotions, but watching as the girls face settled into a stiff frown and her eyes glazed over was somehow unsettling.

“Raven will not be pleased.” The girl whipped her head around immediately, eyes going wide.

“How…?” Lexa unzipped her bag to grab her keys, starting to make her way up the last bit to her floor.

“She asked me this morning to keep an eye out for a girl who was all frowny-“ Griffin’s lips twitched at this “-with blonde hair and blue eyes. I assume that is you.” Lexa heard movement behind her and paused, her hand on the door to the hallway. “I am her neighbor, Lexa. I assume you are Griffin?” She turned around, meeting the girls eyes. She could drown in those eyes...

“Yes, but most people call me Clarke.” Oh god, Clarke was biting her lip. She looked conflicted, but then smirked suddenly. “Had Raven mentioned how very attractive you were, I would have pursued an alternate form of therapy last night.” Lexa felt her jaw drop and her body start to flush. Usually Lexa was much more in control than this, but a few words from the insanely attractive woman had her feeling adrift and unsure. She swallowed, and then decided to fight fire with fire.

“Should you choose to stay, you are welcome to use the fire escape to access my apartment at any time you are in need.” Satisfied, Lexa made her exit and didn’t look back.

Once safely ensconced in her apartment, Lexa leaned heavily against the door and released a breath. _What just happened?_

\---------

After unsuccessfully trying to get some work done in her apartment, Lexa slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out. Veering toward the stairs again-she preferred to take them, really, it wasn’t because that’s where she’d met Raven’s friend- she opened the door to the stairwell and saw that she was correct in assuming that the blonde girl had not moved. At first, wild blue eyes shot up at the sound of the door opening. Lexa noticed that the girl also automatically shifted subtly into a fighting stance before recognizing Lexa and relaxing. Lexa only raised an eyebrow ( _play it cool, Lexa_ ) and started descending the stairs, leaving the girl behind without a further word.

Arriving at her office twenty minutes later, Lexa proceeded to have a fairly productive day, which included: siccing Indra on an employee that mislabelled an invoice, calling back her associate in Japan at precisely 2 a.m. Tokyo time as a follow up to their morning conversation, finishing up her third quarter financial reports and attending two late afternoon meetings with junior associates that she thoroughly enjoyed by ripping their proposals to shreds. Feeling fairly good about her productivity for the day, she arrived back at her front door (taking the elevator this time) and pushed it open. She glanced at the stairwell door and paused as she saw bright blue eyes through the glass. She assumed Clarke was checking to see if it was Raven’s door that opened.

Hesitating only a moment, Lexa gestured with her hands for Clarke to join her in her apartment. Clarke looked briefly confused, but slowly eased the stairwell door open, padding over to the open door. Lexa noted her bare feet as she brushed by on her way inside. Clarke waited until Lexa’s door was fully closed before speaking softly.

“Thanks.”

Lexa slung her bag on a hook by the door and stepped toward her kitchen, noting the way Clarke surveyed her living space. It was very modern, but minimalist. Lexa wondered if Raven had the same layout as she did.

“You are welcome. Would you like a glass of wine?” Clarke turned fully toward her and Lexa was struck again by her beauty, though now that her hood was down she could see that Clarke’s hair was a tangled mess.

“Absolutely.” Was Clarke’s answer. As Lexa poured the wine, she contemplated what to say.

“Is it customary for you to remove your shoes before exiting the building? Did Miller give you grief about it?” Clarke scrunched her nose up, accepting the glass of red.

“I went for a run and they fell off. I also went out the fire escape, so the doorman didn’t say anything to me.” She paused, her mind flashing briefly to the wine from the evening before. “I’m not sure why he’d be the one to say something, though.” Lexa smiled, taking a sip.

“Miller is a supremely observant person, and takes pride in caring for all the tenants here.” Clarke hmmed and turned away.

“I like your apartment. It’s way cleaner than Raven’s. Turns out she’s a complete slob.” Lexa was not surprised.

“You served with her?” She asked, bringing Clarke’s attention back to her. Clarke frowned that Lexa knew this information.

“Marine Corps, yes. How did you know?” Lexa shrugged.

“I knew Raven had served- I didn’t realize she is a Marine, though- and I grew up on Army bases, so I recognized you as Military.”

“Oh.” The both fell quiet for a bit, before Lexa added,

“Also, I overheard Raven talking about deployments last night.” Clarke relaxed and laughed shortly before taking another gulp of wine.

“What did she say?” she asked. Lexa tilted her head, observing the girl. She saw both unease and a large amount of pain in Clarke’s eyes.

“That is all I heard, really. But she is worried about you.” Clarke huffed. Lexa gestured at Clarke’s feet. “Clearly, she had reason to be if you are without shoes.”

“Tough feet,” Clarke remarked dryly, giving Lexa a halfhearted smile. “And I know. That she’s worried.”

Lexa swirled the red liquid in her glass, before saying softly after a minute, “New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.” Clarke locked eyes with her and Lexa found herself unable to look away.

“Lao Tzu, right?” Clarke ventured. Lexa nodded slowly, surprised. Clarke’s eyes glazed over in thought briefly before sharpening in focus once again. She tipped the wine glass back, both emptying the glass and breaking the charged eye contact that was happening. Clarke placed the glass on Lexa’s counter, looking toward the door. “I should go talk to her.” She made her way to the door, hand hovering on the doorknob. Turning, she said quietly, “Thanks, Lexa.” And then she was gone.


	3. The muffins

The door opened immediately when Clarke knocked, and Raven was standing in front of her. She stood aside and held her tongue until Clarke was in the apartment and the door was shut.

"What the actual _fuck_ , Griffin!" Clarke whirled to see Raven with her arms crossed and a dark look on her face. She felt slightly guilty for the tiredness she could see, but stood her ground, head held high as she waited for Raven to dig into her. Raven, however, pursed her lips and went in a different direction.

"You smell like a hobo. Look like one, too. Go shower and change and then we can talk." Clarke nodded and walked to her room. Closing the door, she rummaged for a clean set of clothes. "No sneaking out the window!" Raven yelled, wrenching open the door. Clarke cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking.

"So not funny, Griff. Get clean, but this door stays open so I can keep my eye on you." Clarke rolled her eyes but headed to the shower without protest.

After she was presentable and clean -she even brushed her teeth, which felt _amazing_ \- she padded into the kitchen where Raven was rummaging in the fridge, evidently hunting for leftovers. Clarke observed her remove a chinese take-out box and sniff the contents. After a moment's hesitation, Raven tossed the box into the garbage.

"You really need to learn how to cook." Raven jumped at her voice, spinning around quickly and scowling.

"I can cook!" She protested. Clarke raised an eyebrow. "I can! I'll have you know I make an excellent ramen noodle on bread."

"That's disgusting," Clarke protested, wrinkling her nose. Raven shrugged, closing the fridge and grabbing two apples from the counter instead. Tossing one apple to Clarke, she bit into the other.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Griffin." Raven leaned against the counter behind her and looked over her friend. She sighed, swallowing, and attempted to catch Clarke's eyes. "Hey." She said, putting down her apple. Clarke was rolling hers in her hands. "Clarke." Raven made her way around the kitchen island to where Clarke was standing, plucking the apple from her hand and putting it down. Clarke stiffened as Raven put a tentative hand on her back. Then the dam broke, and Clarke started to sob uncontrollably. Raven managed to maneuver them to the floor, Clarke clutching at her, and wrapped her arms around her crying friend. They sat in an embrace for a good long while, until Clarke had cried herself out. Sniffing, she finally pulled back.

"Sorry," she mumbled, gesturing to the tear stains on Raven's shirt.

"S'ok, takes more than a crying girl to put me out." Wiping her eyes, Clarke met Raven's eyes.

"Not just the shirt. I show up here after two years and within a few days I freak out on you." Raven huffed.

"I get it, okay? I was only out there for a few months, and I still get nightmares and all jumpy and shit. It's a sad reality that a lot of us have those issues." Clarke nodded, leaning up against the island and stretching her legs out along the floor.

"Does it get better?" she asked in a small voice.

"Every day," Raven assured quickly. "I'm not saying that it won't ever be an issue, but every day is better." She hesitated. "And you have a home here, as long as you need to get back on your feet, ok?" Clarke felt herself tear up again, amazed that she had some left in her.

"Even though I'm the one responsible for…" Raven placed a firm hand under Clarke's chin, forcing Clarke to look at her.

"Listen to me, Sarge. What happened was _not_ your fault." Clarke opened her mouth to protest, and Raven held up her free hand to stop her. "No. You did right by all of us, and no one blames you. I know that I don't. Maybe I don't have the whole story, but I have enough to know that you saved a lot of people from a fate worse than death, and you should not minimize that." Clarke swallowed thickly, blinking.

"Ok."

"'Sides, it's not like I owe my life to you or anything. Otherwise I'd totally kick you out." Her lame attempt at humor pulled a small smile from Clarke. "That's more like it. No more sap, ok?" She stood, holding out her hand and hauling Clarke to her feet. "Good, now you and me are going to marathon some crappy TV until we pass out." They fell onto the couch together, and before the first episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills was half over, Clarke had snuggled into Raven's side and was breathing deeply and regularly in sleep. She missed Raven struggling with her own tears as the show rolled on.

\---------

At the blare of a car horn outside the building, Clarke sat bolt upright the following morning, completely disoriented. After a moment of taking stock of herself (dry mouth, racing heart, tight eyes, neck aching from her sleeping position) and her surroundings, she relaxed into Raven's couch. Clarke didn't recall falling asleep, but Raven had covered her with a blanket and left her to it at some point. Clarke got up and glanced around the quiet apartment, seeing a note sitting on the kitchen counter.

_Griff-_

_Went to PT with O. #'s on the fridge. If you leave before I get back, I'll kick your ass. Plus, I took some of your crap with me._

_-Reyes_

Clarke felt a genuine smile emerge at Raven's words. She hadn't known what to expect after showing up with no warning, but in the short time she'd been living here, she felt comfortable in a way that she'd been missing in the months since she'd returned stateside.

Clarke had met Raven when the girl had been transferred to one of the fire teams in her squad. Clarke had recently been promoted to Sergeant, and her teams were preparing for deployment when one of her Riflemen had to be replaced for illness. Clarke remembered getting the notice that Private Raven Reyes would be arriving four weeks before they left the States, and feeling extreme trepidation. Private Reyes was very green (though she was actually older than Clarke), and in addition she would be on Murphy's team. Clarke had learned how to deal with Murphy, but she worried that he would give all hell to the new member of his team.

It turned out that Clarke didn't have to worry all that much. Murphy did try to give Raven hell, but she gave it right back, slinging insults subtle enough that Murphy was unable to report her. It helped that Raven, though easily the smallest person in the whole squad, could absolutely demolish Murphy in martial arts. Which she thoroughly enjoyed doing. Many times.

Clarke had bonded with Raven as the only other female Marine in the squad, but had ensured that she never showed favoritism. Raven was always given the same assignments as the rest of the squad, excepting when something needed to be fixed up: the girl was a mechanical genius. She was also reprimanded appropriately when Clarke discovered that she was in a relationship with one of her other fire team leaders, Finn Collins. Turns out that they had grown up together, and Raven followed him into the Corps and maneuvered herself to be near him: Clarke was still unsure how Raven had managed it.

Clarke had been running a routine sweep with Murphy's team when an IED detonated and tossed all of them thirty feet down the road. Clarke had been lucky in her landing, and was instantly able to assess the situation (her response even earned her some chest candy).

The end result of the ensuing chaos was Raven needing a brace for the rest of her life. She would have died had Clarke not been there- Murphy had no medical training beyond the skills of any other Marine, and Mbege and Sterling had been knocked out cold. Clarke considered the outcome extremely fortunate, all things considered.

They had been deployed together only three months when this all happened, but when Raven was sent home, Clarke missed her. For a little while she was in contact with Raven- had in fact, connected the girl with her surgeon mother when the doctor in charge of Raven's recovery told her that she'd never walk again. Abby Griffin was one of the best, and Clarke used most of her favors getting Raven the treatment she needed. Not that Raven would ever find that out.

They lost touch when Clarke's third deployment required no contact, and never really reconnected: Raven had been discharged officially and Clarke had not tried to search her out.

Clarke left the note on the counter while she rummaged in Raven's cabinets. Determining that they'd run out of edible food, Clarke dressed quickly and headed out the door with her wallet. She nodded at Miller as she left the building and walked the six blocks to a grocers. Returning half an hour later with arms full of bags, she glanced at the clock and decided to bake some muffins. Raven entered the apartment just as a second batch was going into the oven.

"Are these the famous Griffin cinnamon muffins?" Raven asked, drifting over to the kitchen before hopping up onto a clean part of the counter. Clarke looked up just as Raven was sticking her finger into the batter beside her.

"Hey!" Clarke tore off one of her oven mitts and hurled it at her friend. It smacked Raven harmlessly in the shoulder, and she laughed and licked her finger anyway. Raven went to dip her finger again, but Clarke snatched the bowl away. "Wait for the muffins!" Raven smirked.

"Muffins, Clarke?"

"You know what I meant."

"I bet you love to eat muffins…" Clarke huffed and rolled her eyes, but Raven continued. "I tend to favor twinkies myself, but could be persuaded to eat your muffin if you'd like me too…" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"God, Raven. I forget sometimes that you were worse than the guys when tossing around innuendos." Raven chuckled lowly and hopped down from the counter, grabbing her bag and heading toward her room.

"Gotta keep you on your toes, Griffin." She turned and grinned in her doorway. "But seriously, keep me in mind if your muffin starts to get...dry." She laughed as the second oven mitt flew toward her, barely crossing the open space.

"No offense to you, but I've got a better option." Raven quirked her head sideways.

"Really," she said, disbelieving. "No one could top all this." She lewdly gestured to herself. Clarke went to pick up the mitt halfway across the room and decided not to answer beyond raising an eyebrow, which made Raven curious.

"You're serious! Who is it?" Raven was walking back toward her. Clarke just smiled and turned back to the kitchen, attempting to change the subject.

"I bought groceries. You're welcome."

"Clarke!"

"...but I think I should do all the cooking. I remember that black tar you made us on that one hump in Arizona…" Clarke grimaced noticeably at the memory and began to clean up the mess she'd made in the kitchen.

"You know I'm going to bug you until you tell me who you were talking about." Clarke did know, so she gave in.

"Lexa." Raven blinked.

"My neighbor Lexa?" Raven was clearly confused.

"Don't freak out, ok, but I was hanging out in the stairwell yesterday-"

"What?!"

"-and she kinda called me on it. Then just before I got home last night she invited me into her apartment for some wine." Raven was momentarily stunned, and Clarke felt the need to go on. "I kinda hit on her at one point and she basically told me to use the fire escape any time I needed to...release some tension." Raven's jaw dropped more, and Clarke flushed a bit and clarified, "mostly my words, but the invitation was pretty clear. At least on some level."

"I've spoken maybe ten words to Lexa, who I've lived next door to for a year, and you get an open invitation within a week?" Raven paused dramatically, and Clarke shrugged and a little grin appeared. "We're going to revisit you lurking in the stairwell while I worried my ass off later, but how the hell...did you join her for wine?"

\---------

Raven was called back into work that afternoon- she was in charge of fixing the delicate machines that her company utilized in their research and production department, and though it was Sunday, there were sometimes issues that came up. Clarke kept herself busy cleaning the apartment and doing some research (at Raven's urging) on resources for veterans. She came up with a short list of names and promised herself she'd investigate more in the morning.

Feeling somewhat restless, she was searching for something to do in the apartment when there was a single sharp knock on the door. Relieved with the distraction, she swung the door open and was only mildly surprised to see Lexa standing there. Lexa in fact seemed more surprised to see her, but quickly composed herself.

"Hello, Clarke. Is Raven here?" Clarke shook her head in response.

"Some intricate part of some important machine broke down at work. She tore out of here about-" she glanced behind her to the clock on the wall "-four hours ago, now. Wow, didn't realize that much time had gone by. No work for you today?" Lexa blinked at the sudden shift in topic.

"It is Sunday."

"You worked yesterday," Clarke pointed out. Lexa frowned, then shrugged. When Lexa didn't say anything further, Clarke went on: "So, what did you need Raven for?" She smirked when Lexa started almost imperceptibly.

"She has yet to correct the address on some of her correspondence. I have a few pieces of mail addressed to her out from the stack that I forgot to pick up yesterday. May I leave them with you?" Lexa offered a few letters, holding them in the space between them.

"Sure." Clarke reached out, deliberately brushing her hands against Lexa's as she took them. She smirked at the slight shiver the contact caused. As Lexa was recovering, she added, "And what's a girl gotta do to get you to come inside?" Clarke noticed Lexa's neck begin to turn red, despite her struggle to keep a stoic face. She saw Lexa gulp and then straighten her spine.

"You simply have to ask, Clarke." It was Clarke's turn to shiver: the way Lexa said her name, as if she were digesting the sounds in her mouth, was kind of a turn on. Clarke disguised the shiver by turning and heading toward the kitchen.

"Come on in, then." She hoped that she read the situation correctly. When she heard the door shut behind her and light footsteps behind her, she grinned. Throwing the mail -it looked like nothing important- on the island, she turned to see Lexa examining the apartment. Clarke took the opportunity to check out the other girl in closer detail than she'd managed the day before. Lexa was dressed more casually than she'd been the previous evening, but still looked very put together in a forest green sweater-dress and leggings. Her hair was braided back, but a few curls had escaped to frame her face. Her green eyes scanned the space in interest, and her face made the most adorable micro-expressions as she found things of interest. Lexa turned and caught Clarke's eye.

"You said Raven was a slob."

"Yeah, well, I've spent the afternoon cleaning. Her room's a mess, and don't open that closet." Clarke pointed to the one that housed Raven's various mechanical trinkets "I don't know how she survived without me for so long. She has no clue how to cook, either. I was just going to start on dinner, do you want to help?" Lexa arched a brow.

"Dinner already? I only met you yesterday."

"You started directly with drinks, this is the next step."

"Logical, yes." Lexa moved to stand by Clarke in the kitchen. "What do you want me to do?" Clarke refrained from commenting on the open statement, but knew Lexa noticed and correctly interpreted her amused smile as she handed over a colander of potatoes.

"We're making steak, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. You can do these."

"I would prefer to do something else," Lexa said, a smirk of her own on. Clarke laughed, enjoying someone giving her back sass. Raven did, of course, but Lexa was intriguing to her. The girl was fairly proper and straightforward, but had actually helped Clarke a great deal the previous evening. Clarke felt genuine affection already blooming, and wanted to get to know Lexa better.

They cooked well together, and enjoyed some great conversation about philosophy of all things. Clarke learned that Lexa, while definitely more reserved, could become extremely passionate when talking about the subject.

Raven returned just as dinner was finished to find them laughing loudly. Clarke noticed her first and waved in greeting. Raven tilted her head, looking between the two of them, but didn't say anything.

Lexa joined them for dinner, and took some muffins home with her.


	4. The Dream

Lexa clutched the sheets tightly, squeezing her eyes shut. Her breathing rapid, she arched off the bed as a tender hand drew figure eight patterns around her breasts. She bit her lip but was unable to suppress a moan when the hand brushed lightly over a sensitive nipple. She was pressed down onto the mattress as a warm weight settled above her and soft lips captured her own in a delicate but searing kiss.

She brought her hand up to tangle in silky hair and wrapped the other arm around a strong back, running a hand up and down the straight spine as the lips trailed down her jaw, sucked at her neck, and traced her collarbone before capturing a nipple in warm heat. Her hand contracted, nails biting into flesh, as she opened her eyes and looked skyward. She could feel a wandering hand running down her side as the mouth withdrew, blowing slightly at the now exposed bud. Lexa shivered at the sensation, her concentration split between the mouth that was now moving to the other side of her chest and the hand that was teasing closer and closer to where she desperately needed it. Lexa looked down to see electric blue eyes staring directly at her, and at the smirk on the angelic face.

"Ma'am." Lexa was momentarily confused. The tantalizing mouth had shaped the words, but the sensations that the other girl was eliciting were at odds with the tone and phrasing of the request. Now that she thought about it, no one had ever called her ma'am in the bedroom before.

"Hmmm?" She murmured, going with it. Rather than the play on her authority she expected, Lexa was distracted from the sensual ministrations as she was quite harshly jarred in the shoulder.

"What...?" Lexa asked, scrunching a brow in annoyance.

"Ma'am, we're preparing to land, you need to buckle your seatbelt." Lexa's eyes flew open and she groggily focused on the flight attendant staring down at her. Nodding, she reached distractedly for her seatbelt. She felt disconnected with her current situation: her body was on fire, and she could feel the need for release with every fiber of her being. She blinked, trying to calm her racing heart, swallowing thickly and attempting to focus on reality.

"Are you alright, Miss Willows?" The inquiry came from across the aisle- not Indra, who knew not to ask those types of questions, but the new girl whose name was escaping Lexa at the moment. Lexa pulled herself together enough to glare at the girl, taking pride when the girl noticeably gulped. Lexa heard Indra chuckle softly from the seat behind her.

As the plane taxied on the runway, Lexa rather thought that Indra may actually be tempted into full-blown laughter if she figured out that her boss' heart was still racing from the mere beginning of a sex dream about, of all things, the Marine next door.

During the ride to the London satellite office she was visiting, Lexa had managed to calm herself somewhat as she mentally prepared herself for the discussion ahead. She'd been tipped that something in the London branch's annual report was fishy. Lexa was in town to demand answers: she had not informed either her staff in New York or her London associates of her trip.

As Lexa exited the town car with Indra and the new girl (Caris, Lexa reminded herself) behind her, she barely glanced at the building facade before walking quickly and determinedly to the front doors. She took great pleasure in noting the gobsmacked look on the security guards face as she walked by and into the elevator. She saw him reaching for his phone as the door closed, and took the ride to the top floor to school her features into what Anya called her 'mask of stone'. It wasn't a tall building, so when the doors opened Lexa was not greeted but heard a door slam down the hall and hurried footsteps in her direction.

"Ms. Willows!" Came the harried voice of Tristan Seaver. Lexa glanced up at him to see him still shrugging into a blazer, looking startled at her appearance.

"Mr. Seaver." She answered in a measured tone. He looked at her expectantly, as if there were more she was going to offer. He glanced quickly at the two women behind her and shifted his feet, straightening his tie. The silence stretched and Lexa continued to look calmly at him. It was a tactic she'd learned from her father- control the conversation by making the other person fumble and guess. Tristan cleared his throat.

"We weren't expecting you for a visit until next month." The few other offices on the floor were quiet- if Tristan wanted to have this conversation in the open, so be it.

"You must know that we keep an entire staffed department in New York solely to audit and track our worldwide progress and reports?" Gotcha, Lexa thought as Tristan paled immediately.

"Of...of course I...I send my summaries directly to them each month." Lexa could see beads of sweat forming at the crown of his shaved head.

"Not only do they gather all reports, they are responsible for verifying all reports both quarterly and annually with information entered in our accounts department as well as with invoicing." Tristan was silent now, eyes wide and unblinking as his breath started to come in short gasps. Lexa let the silence stretch for a moment, before continuing; "judging by your reaction, I gather that you did not know this purpose of our audit department and did not think that they would notice the nearly $850,000 that you have siphoned into your personal account over the past three months." Tristan's eyes strayed briefly to the elevators before wildly settling on Lexa once more.

"You will stay with Indra and Caris until the police can be summoned to arrest you. I suggest you find a lawyer. I don't much care if they are good or not" She turned from him then, knowing that Indra alone was enough to intimidate the man into staying put. Walking a few steps down the hall, she called, "Mrs. Byrne."

A tall woman wish ash-blonde hair stuck her head out of one of the offices, clearly trying to control her smile. Lexa was unsurprised to see her so quickly after calling out.

"Please call all available department heads to a meeting in twenty minutes time. You will take over immediately as interim chief of staff here until a full panel review of qualifications can be held." Byrne nodded and ducked back into her office. Lexa had no doubt that the woman would be ultimately selected to lead the London office after the panel reviewed all options. Though she had indicated otherwise to Tristan, Byrne had provided the initial tip to her audit department to dig deeper into the London finances. The woman had a strong head for business as well as honed instincts, and Lexa had a personal liking for her that she couldn't say about many people in the London office.

Lexa turned back to see Tristan now slumped against a wall and allowed herself a small smirk in satisfaction. Her trip was going very well.

\---------

Lexa was so busy setting things up for change at the office that she didn't think about much else until she was alone in her hotel room late that night, when the image of Clarke flashed in front of her eyes as soon as she shut off her light. She gasped, feeling her body's immediate response.

Lexa had never felt this intense of an initial attraction in her entire life. Her pulse sped up as she remembered all the sensations from The Dream (because she hadn't had a dream like that for years) and she was suddenly aware of everything her flesh was touching: the starched but soft sheets, the mattress and pillow beneath her, her night clothes. Everything started to burn as she imagined hooded blue eyes staring up at her.

Without thought to her actions, Lexa snaked her own hand down her body to a bundle of nerves that was pulsing in time with her heartbeat. It took very little time before she was arching off the bed in sweet release, imagining Clarke's ministrations throughout. Giving herself a moment, Lexa then drew her hand back up before slowly getting back out from the covers and shuffling to the bathroom.

Flicking the light on, she turned on the tap to wash her hands and glanced into the mirror. Her pupils were still dilated, and there was a thin sheen of sweat over her flushed skin. Her wild hair was loose and tangled, and she still was breathing rapidly. As she left the bathroom to climb into bed once more, she thought, _I am so fucked._

\---------

After only two days in London during which she had several (thankfully unnoticeable) concentration lapses in meetings as a result of The Dream and her own subsequent actions, Lexa found herself walking slowly up the steps into her own apartment building. She cautiously opened the door, and after a quick scan to ensure that the object of her recent desire was nowhere in sight, she hustled across the lobby to the elevator.

Miller called out to her as she passed him, and she paused guiltily. Forcing her traitorous body to relax, she composed her face as best she could and turned to the doorman with an arched brow.

"Yes?" Miller was looking at her with a bit more calculation than normal, but brandished a note in his hand.

"Miss Reyes asked me to give this to you." Lexa strode over, leaving her travel bag in the center of the hall. Without looking at it, Lexa took the note and nodded her thanks. Miller smiled at her as he always did and she returned to her march across the lobby. The elevator chose to take it's time arriving, and Lexa had to stop herself from reading the note. Miller would no doubt be watching for her reaction- he was observant, yes, but also incredibly nosy at times- to whatever Raven had written (which he'd undoubtedly read). Thus Lexa endeavored to wait. As soon as she was being lifted up, however, she began to read:

_Lexa,_

_I'm away 'til Sunday. We never talk, but I'd appreciate it if you'd check in on the stubborn ass in my apartment._

_-Thx! ;)_

Lexa blinked, slightly confused. Before Lexa had eaten dinner with Raven and Clarke, she could only think of a few times she'd exchanged words with her neighbor. Her impression was generally of a scatterbrained yet straightforward individual. Dinner had shown some sense of humor, but Clarke had mostly carried the conversation, so Lexa was taken aback by the 'stubborn ass' comment, as well as the winky face.

Had Raven discovered Lexa's attraction to Clarke based on sheer perception (if so, Lexa needed to surround herself with more people that were oblivious to body language and syntax, rather than hyper aware of such), or had Clarke confided in Raven something about the mild flirting that had happened? Okay, so maybe 'mild' wasn't really the word: Lexa had basically invited Clarke over to her apartment for tension relief on an 'as needed' basis. Or did Raven mean something entirely different?

Lexa was still trying to figure it out when the elevator opened and Clarke was walking blindly down the hallway, fiddling with an iPod, her hair up out of her face and clearly heading out for a run in form-fitting capris and a long-sleeve bright blue running top. Lexa's mouth ran dry, but she had enough sense to quickly stuff the note she'd been staring at into her purse. Clarke looked up just as Lexa removed her hand from the purse.

"Lexa, hey! You're back!"

Lexa felt flustered, and knew her cheeks were turning pink as a result. She gulped and nodded, not trusting her voice. Clarke removed one of her earbuds, and a quiet beat reached Lexa. Clarke was smiling as she walked the few steps to stand in front of Lexa.

"I baked some more. Cookies." Clarke faltered for some reason, glancing away briefly, then went on, "Raven left this morning, so I had way too many. I knocked on your door, but had no idea you were out of town." Lexa opened her mouth to respond, but just then the elevator doors started to close. Clarke and Lexa both reached forward to shove their arms in the gap at the same time and their hands mangled together in an awkward slap/punch. Clarke pulled back and laughed, moving slightly away so Lexa could step fully into the hallway. Clarke's laugh was the infectious kind, and it made Lexa smile widely. For a moment, anyway.

"What is wrong with your face?" The question came from behind Clarke. Lexa hadn't even noticed they were not alone in the hallway, and her eyes fell on Anya leaning on the wall beside her door.

"Anya?" Lexa's brain had to be short circuiting; she couldn't figure out why her friend was there. The three of them stood for a moment before Anya broke the silence.

"You told me to meet you here to get the tickets?" She prompted. Lexa flushed in embarrassment- she felt entirely not herself around Clarke, and it was clear that Anya noticed.

"Well, I'm heading out," Clarke announced, shoving the earbud back in her ear and walking past both Lexa and Anya to the stairs. As she opened the door, she half looked behind her and called, "I'll bring those cookies by later!" Lexa took a deep breath and moved to unlock her door.

"Who was that?" Anya demanded.

"Clarke Griffin, she is staying with my neighbor Raven for a while." She could practically feel Anya's eyes boring into her as she dragged her luggage and threw it into her bedroom to unpack later. Anya was leaning against her kitchen counter with her arms crossed and a slight smirk on her face when Lexa came back out.

"Do I need to check her out?" Lexa's eyes widened immediately: the offer was likely serious, as Anya was a detective for the city.

"No need," Lexa answered quickly, making her way to her office and emerging with the aforementioned tickets- they were her birthday gift for Anya. Handing them over and still seeing doubt in the other woman's face, Lexa went on, "Seriously, that is unnecessary."

Tucking the tickets into an inner coat pocket, Anya pursed her lips. "If you're sure. Not every day I see you smile like that. And she's baking for you?"

"She had extra, you heard her…" The argument was weak, and they both knew it. Anya sighed and straightened, heading for the door.

"Let me know if you change your mind, Lex. You can never tell, and this one is trouble, if only for the irrational way she makes you act." She pulled open the door, and with a quick thanks for the tickets, she was gone.

_I am so, so, so fucked_ , Lexa thought when she was alone once more.

\---------

Clarke did indeed bring cookies by later (chocolate chip), but before the two could exchange more than a few words, Clarke received a phone call that she had to take. She was frowning deeply at the number, but managed a wave goodbye before retreating back to Raven's apartment. Lexa spent an uncharacteristically long time contemplating the cookies, and then contemplating Clarke before heading to bed.

She'd only been asleep for an hour when she was abruptly awoken by broken screaming. Lexa sat bolt upright just as the screams died away. Her face turned toward the wall as she heard a loud thump and then, a moment later, the sound of retching. She was out from her covers and crawling out her window before she had time to reconsider her actions. The cool night air woke her instantly and she hesitated only briefly before moving in front of Clarke's window.

There was a light shining from what she assumed was the bathroom- some sort of low glow indicative of a night light. In the meager illumination, Lexa could make out a tousled bed (empty), a dresser, and a night stand. She bit her lip and knocked sharply on the window.


	5. Lexa comes through the window

Clarke knew immediately who it was when she heard the knock on the window. Flushing the toilet - she'd barely made it -, she quickly splashed some water from the sink on her face and then slowly walked out to the woman crouching outside. Releasing the latch, she stepped back and allowed Lexa to enter her room.

They stood a moment in silence before Clarke spoke.

"I didn't know anyone could come through the window so gracefully." Lexa blinked, evidently thrown off by the selected topic. _Good_ , Clarke thought. "And I thought I was the one that was going to use the fire escape first." Lexa's face remained stoic in the low light. Clarke forced a nervous laugh before shifting her gaze away. A few moments, and then Lexa sighed. Clarke hardly knew anything about the other girl, but she intuitively knew that the sigh was Lexa's way of expressing exasperation.

"I'm fine." She turned her back (aware that this very action would do little to convince Lexa that she was, in fact, fine), ducking back into the bathroom and, for something to do, brushed her teeth. Vomit breath was never a good thing.

By the time she'd gargled some mouthwash in an attempt to hit the gritty feel in the back of her mouth, Clarke's heart had calmed somewhat. She took a deep breath and after a brief internal pep talk, went back out to her bedroom.

Lexa had closed the window and was standing awkwardly between the bed and the bathroom. Seeing Clarke emerge, she hastily stepped back to give her space.

"You can go back to bed." Clarke mumbled. "Sorry for waking you up, it was just dream." The reply was quick and direct.

"Was it?" Clarke was arrested at those two words, and she found herself shaking her head in the negative before she could come up with a response. Lexa's face softened out of the stony expression.

"How can I help you?"

I was a simple question, but Clarke had-for months preceding her arrival at Raven's-had military shrinks tell her how she could 'deal with her pain'. They asked her what happened, and how she felt, and then prescribed medication and given exercises: none had asked her what she needed. Military discipline and decisive action was present in all aspects of her recovery, including her talks with 'professionals'. Lexa's inquiry immediately had Clarke gulping back tears (she hated crying in front of people, and had already broken down with Raven a few weeks ago).

Clarke tried gathering her thoughts- what _did_ she need? Lexa stood calmly as Clarke reflected and calmed herself down.

"Can you...can you stay?" Lexa nodded quickly. Clarke rushed to get more words out. "I mean, stay in the room. I don't think it's safe to share...I mean...I've had some…"

"I understand. I can take the floor." Lexa exited the room, leaving Clarke briefly baffled, until she returned carrying a pillow and blanket that were normally on Raven's couch.

"Lex...a-" Clarke winced internally at the unintentional endearment- "you don't-" She was silenced by a hand. Clarke paused as Lexa set up a sleeping spot at the foot of the bed and lay down quickly.

"I do not mind. Please," she gestured to the bed and Clarke reluctantly climbed in.

For the first time in a long while, Clarke went to sleep hearing another person breathing just a few feet away. She put her memories aside as she listened to Lexa's steady inhale/exhale pattern and slowly drifted off.

\---------

The sky was barely lightening up when Clarke woke the next morning. Stretching quickly, she stumbled out of bed and nearly stepped on Lexa as she rounded the bed. She paused, foot raised, as the night before came rushing back. Clarke felt her face grow hot in embarrassment, and she shuffled quietly around the other woman, softly shutting the door to the bathroom. She leaned back against the closed door and exhaled, her mind going in many directions at once. For something simple to focus on, she glanced at the cracked watch on her wrist: 4:57.

Clarke pushed off the door and reopened it slowly, peeking her head out cautiously. Despite her inner turmoil, she found her lips quirking up as she fully took in the sight of her unexpected roommate. Lexa was sprawled across the floor, one arm and one leg (opposite) sticking out from the blanket. Her long brown hair looked wild around her face, and the free arm was cradling her head - the pillow looked like it was beside Lexa under the blanket. Clarke's thoughts turned from somewhat amused to _Holy Hell, I do_ not _remember her shorts being that short last night….and is that a tattoo?_ She snapped herself out of those thoughts with an internal admonishment, and a sudden panic that she herself was wearing shorts. And a tee-shirt. _Oh, fuck...did she see?_

Frantically, she jumped over to her dresser and yanked on a long-sleeved shirt before grabbing a pair of sweatpants. She was in such a rush to pull them on that she lost her balance, falling down with a thump and a loud exclamation. Clarke immediately looked to Lexa, who was coming awake and looking around in confusion.

"Wassamatta?" Lexa mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Clarke took the opportunity to yank up the sweatpants.

"Sorry!" She whispered, getting to her feet quickly. "Go back to sleep." She started to creep out of the room when Lexa spoke again.

"Clarke?" She paused in her retreat and turned toward the now sitting-up Lexa, who did in fact have hair going every which way. _God, she's adorable_ , Clarke thought.

"Sorry to wake you, I fell over pulling on pants. I'm an early riser - years of habit - and I was just going to sneak out because you were still sleeping and I just…" She paused the beginnings of a ramble. "You can hop in the bed if you want, I'm going to grab some coffee and put on the morning show or something." Lexa blinked more sleep away, and looked around again. Clarke could tell when Lexa remembered the previous night, because Lexa instantly became more focused, snapping her eyes to Clarke.

"Ok, like I said, feel free to sleep more." Clarke practically fled the room, heading straight to the kitchen. Raven's fancy coffee machine was just starting to boil when her bedroom door opened and Lexa emerged.

"Got enough for one more cup?" Clarke smiled and nodded. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt as Lexa took a seat at the island.

"Again, I'm sorry I woke you." Lexa shrugged, then smirked.

"There are worse ways to wake up than a pretty woman nearly falling on you." Clarke laughed at the comment. Plus, it gave her familiar territory.

"Next time I won't miss," she said. Lexa laughed back, arching an eyebrow, and Clarke hurried on, "of course, I won't come down quite so hard next time."

"Well, you fall on me and you will be coming quite hard, I assure you."

"You have a dirty mind in the morning."

Lexa smiled in what looked like satisfaction, before commenting, "Not just in the morning, but my brain does not properly wake up until I've had caffeine." Clarke turned to see the coffee was nearly done, and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard.

"Inhibitions are down before coffee. Got it." They were quiet until they'd both taken their first sip. "But in all seriousness, thanks." She held eye contact as Lexa nodded. Clarke thought Lexa had really expressive eyes- her face was uniquely controlled, but her eyes said a lot.

"You are welcome."

They sat in silence a bit longer before Lexa spoke again. "Do you want to do something today?" She bit down on her lip, which Clarke instantly found very distracting.

"Do something?" She repeated stupidly, transfixed.

"Yes. I have a free day. Do you want to...go for a walk?"

"A walk?" Clarke parroted. Again. Lexa huffed, but seemed more amused than annoyed.

"Or something else. We could hang out at watch movies. I hear that a new Finding Nemo sequel is out…" Clarke tiled her head as now _Lexa_ began to ramble. "Or we don't have to go see a kids movie, I realize that most adult women our age tend to either prefer relatable gritty drama heroines or-" her nose wrinkled in slight distaste "-the hapless rom-com who is swept off her feet unexpectedly. It would be understandably difficult to relate to animated fish…" Lexa trailed off, her cheeks blooming with color. Clarke held in her laughter for a beat, but then it exploded out of her, making Lexa pout slightly. Clarke reigned it in, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. Without thought, she walked around to where Lexa was sitting and plucked the coffee mug from her frozen hands, putting on the counter and enveloping Lexa in a tight hug.

Hugging Lexa was fantastic right from the start. For starters, Lexa released a little hum despite the surprise. Clarke felt her gradually relax into and return the embrace, and both held on longer than was typical. Clarke pulled back first, noting a tentative smile as she put both her hands on Lexa's shoulders.

"I would love to do something with you today. And watching some animated fish sounds great."


	6. Clarke starts the art again

Lexa felt only a little self conscious returning to her room via the fire escape, but the alternative was asking Miller to unlock her own front door. She smirked as Clarke wolf-whistled (Lexa had always been jealous of people who could whistle) when she had climbed back out the bedroom window. A quick glance behind her proved that Clarke was definitely checking her out.

Climbing into her own bedroom, Lexa reflected on their strange relationship. She recalled the first time she had locked eyes with the blonde, those weeks ago in the stairwell. She had never been instantly captivated like that: her guard was immediately down, and from their first conversation she had felt comfortable enough to joke - and Lexa was not the joking type - about intimacy. And GODS, she hadn't had a...Dream...about a specific person since her teenage years.

There wasn't any question that Clarke had her own personal demons, but their small interactions made Lexa want to help. She had seen several of her father's cadets break under one pressure or another. She had seen permanently broken men and women, and she sensed that Clarke was not one of those. As Lexa pulled on a carefully thought out outfit for walking/lunching/movie-going, she decided that she wanted to get to know Clarke, no matter the difficult road ahead.

\---------

Lexa enjoyed lunch, and the movie was light hearted and well done. She and Clarke decided to take the long way back to their building to enjoy the sunshine. They kept the conversation mundane, and Lexa learned that Clarke enjoyed apples over oranges ("peeling an orange is just annoying"), her favorite color was pink ("really Clarke, pink?"), she could watch clouds all day ("Lexa, that is _definitely_ more a sheep than a horse!"), and her favorite gift to receive was a cool pair of socks ("I will keep that in mind").

They had passed through a park and were walking in companionable silence when Lexa sensed Clarke pause for a beat. She quickly looked around for possible reasons and saw Clarke's gaze captured by a storefront. As Clarke nearly ran into a fellow pedestrian, Lexa studied her face and asked,

"Do you like art?" Clarke's head snapped toward her, blue eyes wide, before answering,

"Yes. When I was younger I either wanted to be an artist or a doctor. I haven't done anything but doodle in a long time, though." They were fully stopped now, and people flowed around them. Clarke half-shrugged her shoulders. "My reports in the Marine's used to be out of reg because I'd draw all over them. I got in trouble so I stopped." Lexa studied Clarke carefully before gently reaching for her hand. She felt an initial twitch that could have been Clarke automatically pulling back before warm fingers wrapped around hers. She tugged lightly and led Clarke into the store.

She knew she'd made the right decision when Clarke was immediately enthralled by supplies around them. Her eyes darted every which way as if she couldn't decide where to start. A clerk called out to them, which snapped Clarke out of her trance: she waved off the pimply-faced kid behind the counter and her face broke into the most genuine smile Lexa had seen. Lexa swore to try and get Clarke to smile like that more often.

Clarke then proceeded to lead Lexa around the store, only dropping her hand when she started giving Lexa things to hold. Lexa had no clue what most things were for - her final art class had been in 8th grade, when her pottery wheel had declared war - but Clarke's excitement was infectious, and she found herself smiling widely as her load got heavier and heavier. Eventually the clerk offered a space on the counter when Lexa's balancing act was becoming truly precarious.

After nearly an hour in the store, Lexa and Clarke left with arms laden with bags and boxes. Fortunately they were fairly close to their building and they'd left the biggest items at the store to be delivered later in the day. Lexa had been shocked at the cost of all the supplies (Clarke picked out a lot, but still), but her companion had waved it off.

They made it back to the lobby with no mishap, where Miller called out a greeting.

"Hey, Dave!" Clarke called back, to Lexa's shock. As they somehow fit themselves into the elevator, Lexa asked,

"Dave?" Clarke's brow furrowed.

"Dave Miller. Isn't that his name?" At Lexa's silence, she blinked. "How long have you lived here?" Lexa felt heat creep up her neck, but Clarke didn't comment further, and luckily the elevator arrived on their floor.

"When will the rest arrive?" Lexa asked, as Clarke began to take things out of their packaging reverently. She got the vague answer of 'after 4' before Clarke picked up a simple sketchbook and looked at her.

"Can I draw you?" Lexa was taken aback at the suddenness of the request, and Clarke rushed on, "I want to draw you, but you don't have to if you're not comfortable." Lexa looked at the hope in Clarke's eyes and couldn't refuse.

"Ok." Clarke's face lit up again, and Lexa felt a bloom of happiness within herself. "What should I do?" Clarke was looking through the pile of utensils, considering.

"Sit wherever you're comfortable." Lexa glanced around and decided to take a seat on a chair in the living room. Clarke came and sat on the couch, propping the sketchbook on her legs, tilting her head and running her eyes up and down Lexa.

"I've never done this before," Lexa admitted.

"You have amazing bone structure and are very proportionate." Lexa laughed.

"Thank you, I suppose."

"You're welcome. Now shush." Lexa was very good at sitting still- for the next hour the only sound between them was the scratch of Clarke's charcoal against the paper. Clarke would look up occasionally, focusing on certain parts of Lexa in turn. Lexa took the opportunity to study Clarke (she refused to call it leering). Clarke's eyebrows and lashes were a shade darker than her hair, which was hanging in natural waves around her face. She occasionally reached up with her hand to tuck it behind her ear. She had a slightly dimpled chin, and her nose was slightly off center but adorably cute. She had a beauty mark just above her lip on one side, and her bottom lip was fuller than her top. Lexa found herself staring longer than necessary at her lips and forced her eyes elsewhere.

She noted that Clarke was left-handed, and that when she was drawing she tapped out a rhythm with her right hand. She caught Clarke occasionally reaching up with her free hand to scratch at her upper arm and also rub at her thighs. Lexa was nearly caught in a frown (she had thought she saw something on Clarke's legs the night before, but it had been dark) before she schooled her features and moved her gaze back to study Clarke's expressive eyes. No wonder her initial impression of Clarke was that of a reader-Clarke was an artist, and her eyes were used to picking up on details that many would miss. Not to mention that they were a fantastic shade of blue, the kind that reminded Lexa of the infinite nature of the sky on a bluebird day.

And they were staring right back. Lexa jolted, embarrassed to be caught but still trying to contain her reaction. Clarke's eyes crinkled, and she knew she'd been unsuccessful.

"I'm done," Clarke said, and Lexa shifted in the chair, glancing down at the sketchbook.

"May I?" Clarke bit her lip and handed it over, and Lexa was floored. Clarke was very talented, capturing the smallest detail in amazing strokes. Lexa may not know anything about art, but the more she studied the sketch, the wider she felt herself smiling.

"I'm a little out of practice," Clarke muttered softly. Lexa felt a surge of affection as she noted Clarke nearly wringing her hands. Evidently, she'd been silent too long.

"This is very good for someone that is out of practice." Lexa smiled widely (she found herself smiling a lot more than was normal with Clarke) and opened her mouth to say more when they were interrupted by Miller calling about the arrival of the art delivery.

The rest of Lexa's afternoon was spent helping Clarke set up a corner of Raven's apartment into a studio space (Clarke kept insisting that Raven would be fine with all the furniture moving they did). They kept up their easy discussion from before as Clarke arranged her supplies just so. Lexa kept glancing at the drawing Clarke had done of her in amazement. Her interest in art was increased exponentially over the next few hours as Clarke spoke passionately about the subject.

They eventually ordered takeout for dinner and settled down into the couch, picking out a documentary to start. They moved onto Planet Earth and shared a blanket. As Lexa began to drift off, she reflected on the fact that she felt more relaxed than she had in years.

\---------

The following morning, Lexa woke with her neck aching and her arm asleep. The day before coming back slowly, she realized that she was not in her bed and had, in fact, fallen asleep on the couch with Clarke. The other girl was still asleep, curled up at the opposite end of the couch. She looked younger than Lexa had ever seen her, worries smoothed away by slumber. Lexa's smile gave way to a grimace as she began to sit up and stretch. Turning her head, she startled when she realized that they were not alone in the room.

Raven stood a few feet from the couch, head tilted with smirk on her face as she spoke softly.

"Morning sleeping beauty." Lexa straightened her spine slowly, trying not to disturb Clarke.

"Hello, Raven. I did not know you would be back so early today." Raven crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Griffin didn't answer my messages last night, so I decided to come back early to check. Clearly, she was under excellent care." Lexa refused to blush, but did duck her head in a nod. Raven's face became more serious, and her voice lowered, glancing at the still-sleeping blonde. "Thanks. I was worried."

"We had a pleasant day together yesterday." Lexa admitted. She decided not to go into the initial reason she'd spent all day with Clarke. Raven clearly cared a great deal about Clarke, but Lexa was a strong believer that if people needed help, they would ask for it. Everyone had their breaking point, and Clarke had the right to clue Raven in if she so desired.

"Good."

Raven's eyes moved to the newly created art nook, and she made her way towards it with interest. Lexa took the time to glance at Clarke who she noticed was awake. Lexa blinked as Clarke mouthed a ' _thank you_ ' before shutting her eyes again.

"You moved my shit around," Raven said emotionlessly. Lexa stood in worry.

"Clarke said you would not mind. If you want, I have a spare room that-" Raven waved her off and turned around, and Lexa saw that she was grinning mischievously.

"I'm kidding, Lexa. It's fine. More than fine, actually. I've seen some of Clarke's art from years ago and I'm glad she's decided to start again." To Lexa's surprise, Raven strolled over and gave her a hug.

"We picked most of it up on our walk back from the movie yesterday. Some of it had to be delivered, because we could not carry it all." Lexa felt her cheeks heat. She was not normally one to disclose unnecessary information, and was unsure why she was offering it now.

"The movies, huh?" Raven's eye acquired a devilish glint.

"Leave her alone, Reyes." Came a sleepy mumble from the couch. Lexa turned to see Clarke rubbing her eyes and stretching languidly. Here eyes were drawn to a bare patch of skin exposed when Clarke lifted her arms. She glanced quickly away, but Raven caught her looking and burst out laughing, but didn't comment. Clarke tilted her head in confusion, and Lexa took the opportunity to mutter a quick goodbye and fled the apartment.


	7. Raven tries to do good part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little break for Raven's POV

"She's painting again?" The hand on Raven's leg stilled as Abby Griffin stared up at her patient. Raven tilted her head at Abby's response.

"That's what I said." The older woman rolled her shoulders before focusing back on her task. They were quiet as Abby completed her ROM test.

"How is it going with Octavia?"

"You tell me, doc." Abby stood and moved to her computer, typing in a few notes before she answered.

"Well, she's certainly progressed you past your original prognosis, that's for sure."

"Fucking right, she has!" Abby shot her a look and Raven rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Proper language is not at the top of my list." Abby's lips were still pursed. "You're such a _mom_ , God, Abby." Raven knew she'd hit a nerve as Abby's face briefly flashed with pain. But then her expression cleared, and she turned back to her computer.

"Well, at least you think that way." She said, voice defeated. Raven shifted uncomfortably. I was a strange act of fate that she had a better relationship with Abby than Clarke did, and had for a while now. Raven didn't have the best mother figure growing up (or really her mother never displayed motherly qualities), and she had grown to respect Abby in a way that felt parental.

"She just needs time." Abby's typing stopped and she turned to Raven.

"Could you...maybe just let her know that she's invited to Thanksgiving? I know that you're coming, but it's not going to be a big event. Tell her that the Jaha's will be there? I know Wells would love to see her."

"Of course I can. And I'll let you know what she says."

* * *

"Griffin!" Raven yelled as she pushed the door open to the apartment. Clarke jumped and spun from her easel, her paints splattering all over the floor (Raven had insisted that she didn't care about Clarke's paint all over because, after all, Clarke tolerated the grease that Raven's projects sometimes produced).

"Fucking hell, Raven!" Clarke's eyes still looked a little wild, and Raven felt briefly guilty for startling her. Then she remembered that treating Clarke Griffin with kid gloves produced more brooding and terrible moods, so she just plowed on.

"Abby wants to know if you're coming to Thanksgiving next week." Clarke sighed and ran her hand through her hair, and Raven watched a streak of green appear on blonde. Instead of answering, Clarke bent to collect the brushes that had scattered when she startled. "Seriously, Griff. Your mom is awesome no matter what the issue is between you, and I'll be there. She also said that Wells was going to be there." Clarke glanced up in interest, and Raven went with it. "He's the friend from way back you'd always talk about, right?"

"Yeah." Clarke straightened. "We grew up together- he was really my only friend until I joined up."

"When's the last time you saw him?" Clarke started frowning again, but only because she appeared to be thinking.

"I...don't even remember. It's been a few years at least. I missed him the last time I was home- he was travelling around Brazil, I think."

"So...will you come?" Raven felt excited that Clarke didn't reject the idea right away. Before she could answer, Lexa emerged from Clarke's room talking.

"You know, you should really lock your window, Clarke."

"Or you could knock on the door like a normal neighbor," Raven noted, smirking. Lexa waved her off and walked closer to Clarke. Lexa had over the past few weeks become a regular in their apartment. Raven didn't get it: she'd been living next door to Lexa for a while, and still had no clue what she did for work (she seemed to be out of town a lot, and worked weird hours when she was home). Not to mention that Lexa had never struck her as a social person: when Clarke wasn't involved she tended to only answer questions, and only then with a nod or a grunt. Seeing her be so chatty with Clarke was bizarre- even if her "chatty" was still fairly controlled and succinct. To Raven's utter surprise, Lexa turned directly to her and smirked.

"Since when have I been a normal neighbor?" Raven blinked. _Ok, if that's how it's going to play out._

"Between you and Griffin, my whole routine is completely fucked. Not to mention, I hear you sneak back through that window in the middle of the night sometimes." Lexa pinked but held her expression, and Raven turned to Clarke. "Is she providing adequate _comfort_ Clarkey?" Clarke rolled her eyes rather than rising to Raven's bait (how boring!).

"We get along just fine, Reyes. Thanks for giving me the accessible room." Raven saluted and moved to her room to hit the shower. As she shut her door, she heard Lexa ask,

"What are you painting today?"

Honestly, Raven was surprised that those two hadn't banged already.

* * *

"You look fine, for the zillionth time. Let's get inside before my tits freeze off." Raven pushed a strange creature ahead of her (she had never seen Clarke act like this before- all over the place and frankly jittery). She had seen Clarke break down once (in her kitchen), get angry once (Mbege had accidentally misfired and nearly hit Sterling in a pre-deployment drill), and effortlessly take command of a Rifle Platoon (when the 1st Lieutenant was pinned down and incommunicado). She was only guessing how to handle Clarke the nervous, somewhat insecure girl that had emerged in the last hours' drive to her mother's house.

"This was a terrible idea." Clarke said, and Raven was dismayed to see her turn away from the house. Abby had been so excited when Raven had told her that Clarke was coming. Before she could say anything to Clarke, however, the front door of the house opened and a man called out to Clarke. Raven was relieved to see an immediate relaxation in Clarke, and looked to see a dark haired man their age hustling toward them. Clarke smiled genuinely and opened her arms as he swept her off the ground.

He was a large man, and Clarke immediately disappeared into his embrace. They started quietly murmuring to each other and Raven took that as her cue to leave. She made her way up to the front door, where Abby was watching her daughter and the man who could only be Wells talk excitedly. Raven broke her longing stare by giving Abby a hug.

"Thanks for having me." The comment snapped Abby out of her thoughts and she immediately went into hostess mode, ushering Raven inside.

Raven hadn't been to the Griffin house before, and immediately looked around in interest. For the salary she knew Abby made, the house was surprisingly modest. The ground floor only seemed to contain a cozy living room, a bathroom, a dining room, and a kitchen. Plates were being set by an older man that had to be the elder Jaha.

"Hello, I'm Thelonius Jaha," he said, holding out his hand.

"Raven Reyes, it's nice to meet you Mr. Jaha." Jaha's eyes crinkled in amusement, and he raised an eyebrow at Abby.

"Oh hush," Abby quickly interjected, before Raven could fully suss out the reason for the looks they exchanged. She took a stab at it anyway.

"Let me guess. Abby painted me as a spunky yet loveable heathen?" Jaha and Abby laughed.

"You are a spunky heathen, though, Raven." Clarke had entered the house, the man sticking close to her (he was as aware as Raven of Clarke's instinct toward flight in this particular situation). Raven frowned. "This is Wells. Wells, this is Raven."

"I notice you didn't include the 'loveable' in your introduction." Raven snarked. She held out a hand to Wells, but he ignored it and wrapped her in a hug. He took the opportunity to say a 'thank you' softly in her ear.

"Hi mom," Clarke mumbled.

"Clarke," the name was strangled. Wells tugged Raven to the dining room where his father handed them the silverware. Out of the corner of her eye, Raven noted the awkward hug that the Griffin women exchanged before Clarke ducked and turned to help them set up, tense once more. The older adults exchanged another inscrutable look before Abby turned to the kitchen.

"It's good to see you, Clarke," Jaha said as the clink of dishes continued. Wells slipped into the kitchen and began to ferry food to the table.

"You to, Uncle Theo. How is retirement treating you these days?"

What followed was small talk that Raven tuned out as she started wandering around the living room. Clarke's whole life was chronicled here: from a squishy blonde baby to a messy toddler to a sassy middle schooler to a sullen teenager and everything in between. Her mother was in a lot of pictures, as was Clarke's father: Raven didn't know much about him except that he'd died in some sort of terrible accident in Clarke's final week of nursing school. They looked happy.

"I'm glad you got her to come," Abby remarked softly, coming to stand by Raven. Not knowing what to say, Raven shrugged. Abby put her hand on Raven's shoulder and squeezed. "Dinner's ready." Raven made her way to the table and sat down next to Clarke, facing the Jahas. Abby sat at the head of table and didn't miss everyone turning to the empty sixth seat.

"Raven, we start Thanksgiving going around and saying what we're thankful for," Jaha said. Raven nodded and he began. "I'm thankful for Abby for cooking this beautiful meal, and for my son and Clarke being home at the same time for once, and for meeting new people."

"I'm thankful to spend time with family today, and for this food because I really can't cook. Also to see Clarke again after almost two years." Wells paused, then got a wicked look on his face, "finally, that Clarke brought home a hot girl that she's not dating." He wiggled his eyebrows at Raven, who giggled (and stopped herself, because she wasn't the giggling type). Jaha rolled his eyes in good humor, and Clarke snorted. Raven figured that small noise was the reason Wells had said that, because he lit up even as Abby sighed.

"You're ridiculous." Clarke muttered, still slightly smiling.

"Well," Raven began, "I'm thankful that Clarke's friends are all really really attractive."

"Reyes," Clarke groaned, her face dropping to her hands. "No, no, no." Raven grinned at Wells and winked.

"Seriously, I'm thankful to be here, so I appreciate the invite Abby. Plus, it's nice to see Clarke interact with someone other than Lexxxxaaaaa." She made kissy faces and Clarke glared at her.

"Who's Lexa?" Abby asked, leaning forward. Everyone looked at Clarke, but when she only pursed her lips, they turned to Raven.

"Lexa is my neighbor who now spends more time at our place hanging out with Griffin." She left it at that.

"I hate you." Clarke said. Raven was relieved that there was no true bite to her words. Clarke turned to the entire table. "Lexa is a friend, we are _not_ dating."

"Yet!" Raven interjected. Clarke rolled her eyes, but conceded.

"Yet." Raven whooped at the admission, but didn't push her luck. Clarke plowed forward. "I'm thankful for the free food that I didn't have to cook. Thanks, mom." She turned and looked directly at Abby for the first time that Raven noticed. Abby smiled genuinely and nodded. And then ruined the light mood.

"I'm thankful that my daughter is here with us alive, and that she has left active duty behind." Ok, now Raven understood why Clarke didn't want to come to dinner.

* * *

The food was good, but Raven spent the whole dinner tiptoeing conversation, as did Wells. Despite only just meeting him, Raven could tell they shared the same concerns about Clarke. They exchanged looks throughout dinner between Jaha and Abby carrying the conversation about some mundane topic or other. Clarke excused herself to the bathroom as soon as the main course was over, and Raven and Wells offered to clear the table before pie.

"Give me your number," he said the minute they were in the kitchen.

"Excuse me, you're going to have to try harder than that."

"Ok, you know that's not what I meant."

"Am I not good enough for you, Jaha?" He paused, seemingly off balance.

"Dearest Miss Reyes," he began.

"Yes?" She looked at him directly- God, he was _tall_.

"I would be honored to get to know you further outside of-" he lowered his voice "-awkward pseudo-family dinners. Could I possible trouble you for your phone number?" Raven rolled her eyes over dramatically, but smiled.

"Of course, let me program it in." She entered her numbers, then texted herself. He pulled the pie out of the oven and glanced at her, debating. She sighed, and reassured. "I'll text you as needed. Seriously would like to get to know you better, though. Jury's out on what type of better, though, so don't get your hopes up." He smiled and they walked back out to the dining room, where Clarke and Abby were very close and breathing hard, anger on both of their faces.

"Where's dad?" Wells asked, and Abby stepped back.

"He had a phone call to take. He should be back in a moment. I can cut the pie."

Clarke refused to talk the rest of the meal, only saying goodbye to Wells and the older Jaha. Raven felt like she hugged Abby extra hard because of the heartbreak on her face. Wells gave her a pointed look as she left and tapped his phone. She gave him a small smile and followed Clarke to the waiting car.

* * *

`From: Jaha the Younger- Get back? How is she?`

`To: Jaha the Younger- Silence. Door slamming.`

`From: Jaha the Younger- Be there for lunch. Bringing movies.`


	8. The body is a canvas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, this chapter may be intense for some readers: I had a hard time writing it. My life experience does not include any military service, and this is purely a work of fiction, so I took some liberties on a POW situation. All the italics in this chapter are a flashback to the grisly stuff (I kept it mostly vague), so skip that if you want.

She was staring at blank paper. Her entire morning had been unproductive, unless you counted trying to perfect the pen/finger roll- her hand was starting to cramp. She'd heard Wells come in (Raven and Wells getting along was not something she'd mentally prepared for, but they both seemed happy so she didn't really care) earlier but hadn't moved from her bed. She didn't even feel like sketching Lexa, the words her mother had said still echoing in her head three days later.

" _I'm not sorry you survived and he didn't. I wish you never signed up in the first place, you know that. But I refuse to be sorry that you're here."_

Clarke had reacted, but had been thinking about the words since her mother had spit them out. She understood where Abby was coming from, even understood why she'd said such harsh truths. It was just terrible timing, as usual. Nothing ever synced up with her mother-they'd been battling each other for years for no reason. Even before her father died, they had huge differences (the biggest was Clarke's choice of nursing school rather than medical school). Clarke was just tired of it. She loved her mother: was proud of everything Abby had accomplished, and everything she did to help people (Raven in particular), but fighting her was exhausting, and Clarke was ready to be done.

She was snapped out of her musings by a loud bang from the TV outside her door. She ran out of her room, instantly alert and saw Raven and Wells sprawled on the couch watching Sunday morning cartoons. They didn't notice the slight panic that she quickly quelled (mostly because they were glued to the television). Clarke swallowed.

"I'm going for a run. Food when I get back?" They both turned at her tone: Raven waved her hand in a vague gesture and turned back to the screen, but Wells frowned at her slightly. Clarke was thankful that he didn't say anything as she fled back to her room.

She shakily got into her running gear, glad that the weather was colder so she didn't look quite so ridiculous in her long sleeves and pants. She grabbed her iPod and had her earbuds in before she headed out the door. She glanced at Lexa's apartment as she walked past to the stairwell. She started jogging down the stairs as [music](https://youtu.be/-xA84aIAWEk) started pounding through her ears, and waved vaguely to Miller. Hitting the street, she turned toward the nearby park and picked up her pace steadily until she was lost in the trees. It was a weird time of day, so even though it was Sunday she didn't see a lot of other runners.

Clarke still found it ironic that running brought her so much clarity: in High School she'd detested most forms of physical activity. She hadn't considered herself a runner until it became part of her daily PT in the Marines, and when she'd discovered the cathartic effects it could create. Running was meditative to her; it erased difficult thoughts temporarily, or at least long enough to gain new perspective. Today she concentrated on her breath going in and out and lost herself to the air and the sky and the trees, slowly letting go of the scenes that had popped into her mind when a cartoon had needed a stupid sound effect.

* * *

_Clarke was initially kept apart from her squad when they were captured, until they realized that she was the one in charge. She couldn't figure out where she was: they'd kept the whole squad in the dark as they'd traveled to their destination, and covered their heads as they led them one by one to the holding cells. Clarke knew the basics of the language, and there were two voices arguing as she was separated from her squad. They were surprised that she was a woman: one man wanted to show her mercy, and one wanted the opposite. The man arguing for mercy won the initial argument, and she was shoved into a cell with three captured female journalists. The first few days she was treated almost as a guest: she was fed and generally left alone._

_She got to know the three ladies: one Canadian and two Brits that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of the Brits, Cece Cartwig, had been held for over a year at the same place, and knew most of the captors by face. The few days they were together, Cece provided a wealth of information about which individuals to really look out for, and which could perhaps be considered kind. This information ended up being imperative to Clarke._

_Clarke had been in the cell with the three women when one of the men Cece told her to watch ordered some others to drag her away. He started yelling at the remaining women in the cell, so Clarke made a scene. His attention turned to her and she was promptly beaten and shoved in a tiny room for two days, unable to do anything but stand and starve._

_She'd almost expected to be left there to die when the same captor came back, dragging her to a different part of the facility. She named him Fuckface along the way._

_Turns out that one of the captors knew military insignia, and realized that she was more than just a woman on the squad. They started trying to get information out of her the old fashioned way: she'd been trained in torture techniques, but had never undergone some so rigorous. When waterboarding didn't work, they tried burns all over her legs. When she refused to scream, Fuckface got angry and went to town with a belt. Or was it just a whip? Clarke was barely conscious when they stopped because Mercy Guy arrived and began yelling._

_They threw her in the squad cell then, and Lincoln was able to at least stop the bleeding. She'd never seen Murphy speechless, and quipped out something that made him scoff and Finn smile weakly. The other guys all laughed uneasily._

_Really, putting them all in a cell together ended up being a terrible idea. Clarke drew a map of what she'd seen being dragged all over, and the others all added to it as they could. Lincoln had been perceived as the biggest threat initially, so he'd been taken within the first few hours. One by one, and by different interrogators, they'd been dragged to all corners of the building. Idiots._

_They'd been mostly left alone since they'd all taken their turn. Because they were in a remote part of the county, with it's own regional dialect, most of the squad had no clue what their captors were after. As Clarke talked with Atom, who was the most fluent, about the questions that they'd asked her, they figured that they were after a weapons cache as well as wanting information about their base layout and strategic holdings._

_Clarke was taken out of the cell alone twice more by Fuckface. Despite stripping her to nearly nothing when he 'played knives', he never touched her sexually. After the second time Mercy Guy interrupted his sessions, the captors switched tactics and started going after the men. They took a different person each day, becoming visibly more frustrated._

_Clarke lost track of time: they all did. It was an endless cycle of 'thank God, not me today', pain, and no relief. Clarke learned later that they'd been held nearly three months. They all became thinner-they were hardly fed, and the physical and emotional toll wore them down. After a while they brought Clarke out to watch what they did to her fellow soldiers. She learned that the reason Fuckface never touched her was because he prefered men- specifically Myles, who was the youngest of them by far and barely out of basic training when they were all captured. Those were the worst days._

_Despite everything, all the Marines were kept together. They were able to give and take as needed. They kept one another sane (to what extent they could-Myles didn't talk again) and leaned on whoever felt strong that day._

_Clarke didn't allow herself to fall apart, and that drove her captors crazy. As the sole woman, they'd figured she would be the easiest to break. Mercy Guy even got annoyed and allowed Fuckface to carve her up again, then allowed others to do things he'd initially stopped. It was a miracle that they were all still alive when Clarke finally got a chance._

_It was ironically because of the blood flowing down her arms that Clarke was able to twist out of her restraints when Fuckface was the only one in the room. He had his back turned, which was his last mistake. Despite being eight inches shorter and nearly emaciated, she locked her arm around his neck and squeezed. After a struggle he passed out and she finished the job, stole some clothes, and loaded up on every weapon she could find, including a set of keys._

_That particular day (seriously, it was all luck) she was in more remote part of the building. She staggered her way through corridors, dispatching two more guards and hiding the bodies until she reached the cell where the journalists were being held. Unbelievably, they were now set up with a few books and bedding. Clarke felt rage and incredulity build up, but quickly squashed both as they noticed her standing in the open doorway. Miracle of miracles, they didn't cry out when they saw her. In fact, when yelling down the corridor started alerting the building that she was loose, Cece drew her into the room, shoved her under the bedding and re-locked the door._

_What followed was the most agonizing five minutes of the entire ordeal. The room was checked once-the Canadian pretended to be sleeping on the bedding Clarke was hiding in, and the Brits lounged with books in what must've been the most convincing manner possible, as the cell was completely written off._

_Clarke began speaking quietly to the three women, knowing that time was of the essence. They collaborated information once more and made an educated guess (a damn good one, as it turned out) that the whole building was held by seven armed men. Clarke had no idea if they'd discovered that three out of seven were dead- they'd clearly discovered at least one if they were looking for her._

_Clarke knew she had to move if anyone had a chance, so she slipped back out of the cell after ensuring that the women would stay there and continued along the corridors. She made her way to the upper floor of the building and surprised one guard, but as she finished him off another came around the corner and brought up his gun. Clarke dove out of the way while shooting back, and managed to hit him, but the game was up._

_She refocused herself and began a methodical sweep. Clearing the second floor, she descended the stairs and started to sweep the ground floor. As she drew closer to the squad cell, she heard yelling and sped up._

_The last two captors- Mercy Guy and one they'd named Cow- had pulled Finn out of the cell and had him in front of them. Cow didn't have a weapon on him, but was trying to talk into a radio. Mercy Guy had a knife to Finn's throat. Clarke gripped her gun tightly and caught Finn's eye as they backed him up to the corner._

_"Drop gun!" Mercy Guy was yelling. Cow turned the corner, still muttering into the radio. Mercy Guy put pressure on the knife, and Finn began to bleed. Clarke made the motion of putting the gun down as Mercy Guy dragged Finn into the next corridor. Clarke rushed the corner just as a strangled sound came from beyond it, still holding her gun. She saw Finn struggling with Mercy Guy. Clarke didn't hesitate to shoot Cow, and the two men turned to her. Clarke saw Finn's neck and_ **knew**. _No coming back from a wound like that, even if they had been in the middle of a trauma center. He looked her in the eye again and tapped his chest as Mercy Guy pulled Finn in front of him._

_Clarke fired, and they both dropped for good._

_The next two hours whipped by. Clarke released her squad, and they swept the whole facility in pairs. Atom took control of the radio, and finagled the frequency to call out to base. Clarke set the journalists free after the squad was sure the building was secure. Finn's body was carried to the courtyard. They were picked up by an air division and flown back to base, and then to Germany. Clarke lost track of time again. She talked to Majors, Commanders, Lieutenants, and everyone else they told her to talk to. She answered the same questions thousands of times. She tracked where each of her squad ended up- they all showed up at her hearing after the investigation. She knew it was only a formality, but it was still agonizing._

_Finn's service overlapped with the verdict date. Clarke sent money to his father and sister so they could set up a scholarship in his name. She got a thank you card back. Myles was committed to a psych facility after none of them could get through to him. They shared their burdens. Murphy would always have a limp from where Cow had smashed his foot to shit. Lincoln started spewing peace and signed up to be a motivational speaker. They all gave him crap about it, but secretly they were proud of him. They all found something to keep them going, and shared their burden as if they were still in a cell. Clarke tracked all of their progress, but she herself ran away the second her papers were in order._

_She ran by hopping trucks across the country: sleeping with the homeless when she could (a lot of them- too many- were fellow vets that were only too happy to share space), sleeping in the forest when she ended up somewhere she was alone. She saw the country through a haze: a country she fought for, nearly died for. She saw people her age so carefree that it both sickened her and made her green with envy. She avoided her mother-threw away her phone after day two, and only called Lincoln and Murphy sporadically. And Myles: even though he still didn't talk, she made him listen to stories about her travels._

_Her haze was slowly lessening when she realized how close she was to Raven. Murphy had mentioned Raven's location in passing (who knew he kept up with her, or that they were even friends), and Clarke realized that she needed to stop and figure things out._

_So she did. The city was too full of noise, but she forced herself to stay. Raven was messy, and she couldn't cook, but she didn't push (except to drag her to Thanksgiving). And then she met Lexa, and started focusing herself on something other than memories. Was this how the others felt? When Lincoln had a speech to read; when Atom had a fire to respond to? Could one person be the way out of the swirling darkness of her psyche? Was it even fair to expect one person to drag her to the surface when she had so much trying to drown her?_

_Clarke decided, on a long run three days after Thanksgiving, that it didn't matter. If Lexa stuck around, only good would come. If she couldn't deal with all of Clarke's shit? Well, Clarke had been through worse._

* * *

Clarke knew Raven was thrown when she got back from work on Wednesday. As Raven came in the door, the silence was filled with her pause: her stare, her thoughts. Clarke was painting again -a crazy, twisty, dark piece-, but had decided to forgo long sleeves in the sweltering apartment.

Wearing only a tank top and splattered sweatpants, she dropped her brush and turned to face Raven fully, arms on full display. She noted Raven's eyes darting all over the place, picking up details of Clarke's imprisonment.

"My body became a canvas." Clarke shrugged as Raven continued to be silent. Raven at least stepped inside and closed the door before walking over to stand a few feet from Clarke. She swallowed.

"I hate when people pity me, do you?" Clarke heard the words and relaxed immediately. Clarke could hide her imperfections -such that they were. Murphy could not. Raven could not. Her skin may be marked, but her body was whole, and her soul was mending back together again. Clarke stepped closer and pulled Raven into a hug. She felt Raven shiver, but neither said anything. Clarke hadn't been this exposed since the last check-up in Germany, when her entire body had been photographed for the investigation. Her doctor there was the only person other than her own squad and a handful of base medics to see her scars.

But Raven knew what it was like to come back broken. Despite not being on good terms with her mother, Clarke had read all of Raven's medical reports. The Raven standing before her today was tougher; stronger in mind because of what she'd endured. Her body may never fully heal, but her spirit had mended.

They separated after a while, and Clarke saw Raven wipe a single tear before turning toward the kitchen, throwing her gym bag in the direction of her room (she missed, as usual).

"I know you want to finish your damn painting, Griffin. I'll order in." Clarke turned back to the darkness now on the canvass instead of inside of her and picked up her brush.


	9. Spoiler...they kiss finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pick me up after that last one...

The first time Lexa met Wells, they scared each other. Lexa had just gotten in from London (Byrne had officially been named as head of that branch) and couldn't wait to see Clarke. She knew that the blonde was out with Raven until later, so she wanted to make dinner as a surprise. She'd texted Raven so that they didn't eat out.

She let herself in via Clarke's window (the woman _still_ didn't lock it!) holding a bag of groceries, and strolled out into the open living space directly to the kitchen. She'd just put the groceries down and started pulling out dishes when the bathroom door opened behind her. She whirled, immediately going into a defensive crouch. The man emerging from the bathroom made a strangled sound, mimicking her position.

"Who are you?" He demanded. Lexa examined him critically. His form spoke of some training, but she didn't doubt her years of experience. She brandished her arm.

"I could ask you the same question." The man relaxed minutely as his gaze zeroed in on her hand which was ( _oh my God_ ) clutching a wooden spoon. She glared at his expression, which was creeping into 'amused'. He held his hands up in a placating gesture, looking slightly bashful.

"You wouldn't be Lexa, would you?" She remained tense, even though he knew her name. "Raven said you came in through Clarke's window sometimes." To her chagrin, he shrugged and ambled toward her.

"I seem to be at a disadvantage." She growled, and he stopped after seeing that she was still in attack mode.

"I'm Wells Jaha. I grew up with Clarke and have been abroad for a while. My dad lives just outside of the city, next door to Clarke's mom. We all had dinner together for Thanksgiving and I hang out here sometimes." Lexa stayed on alert but dropped the spoon on the counter. He took that as a cue to move onto one of the stools. When she didn't make any other move (she still didn't really know who he was), he continued. "Are you making dinner? Do you want any help?"

Despite her reservations, Lexa found herself slowly relaxing around Wells (and, as he pointed out, she had been the one breaking in through a window). He was just one of those charismatic, easy going people. When Raven and Clarke finally returned, it was to Wells cracking up at some subtle joke Lexa had deadpanned. Lexa felt her heart warm as Clarke broke into a wide smile upon seeing her.

"You're back from London?" Lexa nodded as Wells gathered himself. Lexa ignored Raven basically shoving Clarke toward her, but smiled at the indignant look that passed quickly over Clarke's face. To alleviate any embarrassment (Raven had been more blatantly hinting at them to 'get it on already!' [ok, that was more than hinting]) and change the subject, Lexa pointed at Wells.

"He said he belonged to you. I nearly attacked him with the cutlery."

"It was a wooden spoon. I don't think you could've done much damage." Wells had a grin that faded as Lexa arched her brow.

"You would be surprised at my capabilities."

Lexa enjoyed keeping people on their toes, and was pleased with Wells' brief uncertainty before he turned to Clarke and Raven as the women moved toward the set table. Raven rolled her eyes and spoke up.

"Ok, Ronda Rousey. You're a badass, we get it. Wells is Clarke's friend from way back, but he belongs to me." Clarke grimaced at Raven's statement.

"That's possibly the most possessively weird way you could've put that, thank you Reyes."

* * *

After a successful meal (during which Wells proudly lauded his salad and Clarke threw a carrot at him), Raven and Wells claimed the couch and started bickering about movies. Lexa saw Clarke roll her eyes before she tugged Lexa into the bedroom.

Lexa's hand was dropped as soon as the door shut. Clarke looked uncertain before her face cleared and she reached forward and pulled Lexa into an embrace. She heard Clarke mumble into her hair, felt the tickle of breath on her neck.

"You were gone a long time." Lexa relaxed into the embrace for a moment before pulling completely away (she did notice Clarke unconsciously following her before realizing that she was leaning into Lexa's space and retreating to sit on the bed).

"I am sorry. I had to attend matters in person." Clarke nodded and scooted back against the headboard, patting the space before her. Lexa took a brief moment to examine Clarke and the way she carried herself: she'd noticed a difference immediately. Overall Clarke's posture was more relaxed and her eyebrows didn't knit together nearly as often. Something positive had happened while she was away.

Wordlessly she climbed up beside Clarke and leaned back. They sat in silence for a moment before Clarke spoke.

"Do you have plans for Christmas?" Lexa allowed only a blink before shaking her head negatively. Clarke let out a breath and continued. "I mean...I don't either. Do you maybe want to be not alone?" Lexa felt herself smiling without thought.

"That is an odd way to put it." Clarke huffed, then nudged Lexa's shoulder.

"But you know what I mean. We could hang out." Lexa smiled wider.

"Is that what the kids these days are calling it?" Clarke mock-scowled and poked her in the side.

"You went there fast. It's evening, why are your thoughts so dirty?"

" I am still on London time. It is morning there already."

"Yeah, not the type of morning where you'd be awake."

"Clarke, have you been keeping track of the time zone I am in?" Lexa connected with wide blue eyes. She felt Clarke take her hand and rub a thumb across her knuckles. The air suddenly became charged and Lexa couldn't look away. They had been circling each other for nearly three months, keeping to lighthearted jokes and innuendos. Clarke was suddenly much closer, bringing her spare hand up and around to the back of Lexa's neck and Lexa _shivered_ , heart starting to pound.

"I like you, Lexa." A simple admission that had Lexa's eyes fluttering closed as she pressed her forehead to Clarke's. Each breath across her lips brought more awareness- of the fact that Clarke's hand slowly left hers to travel to her waist, of the press of Clarke's thigh against her own, of the heartbeat thrumming through her body, of breaths increasing, of her own hands bunching into Clarke's shirt and drawing the other woman closer, of legs tangling out of necessity, of soft lips and... _oh_.

Lexa sighed into the kiss as she felt a tongue swipe her bottom lip. She opened her mouth in response and felt Clarke smile as they deepened their contact. Lexa felt Clarke's hand tangle in her hair, lightly tugging as their mouths stayed connected. Clarke's other hand was wandering her torso, but when it brushed the underside of her breast Lexa stopped focusing on the fact that Clarke was a fantastic kisser and _squeaked_. Clarke drew her hand and her mouth back immediately. Lexa wasn't sure when it had happened, but they were both laying down. Clarke smirked, slightly wild eyes crinkled in amusement as Lexa covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

"That was adorable," Clarke husked. Lexa flushed further.

"Was not. That was a very dignified way of…" she trailed off, unable to think clearly as she peeked between her fingers and caught sight of Clarke biting her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing.

"See something you like?" Clarke teased, pulling her bottom lip entirely behind her teeth and slowly releasing it again. Lexa, unable to resist the sight, surged upward and connected them once again. This kiss was more heated, both women fighting for dominance.

Lexa had no idea how long they'd been kissing when Clarke's door suddenly banged open and they broke apart suddenly. Lexa felt Clarke tense immediately.

"You owe me twenty, Jaha. They were totally making out." A muffled groan from the living room caused Lexa to sit up and straighten her shirt.

"Reyes. What the _hell_!" Clarke was still tense, and Lexa starting rubbing circles in her back before Clarke stood, abruptly moving a step toward Raven. Raven's eyes flickered with regret as Clarke took another step toward her.

"First of all, _don't fucking bang in here whenever you want_."

"Clarke, I…" Raven took a step back now. Lexa saw Wells stand up over Raven's shoulder.

"Second of all, you were _there_ and _fucking **know**_..." Raven took a step back. Lexa stayed with Clarke, in her peripheral but close enough that she could see Clarke's arm hair standing up. She debated only a moment before initiating contact by reaching out and lacing their hands together. Clarke broke off her rant to glance at her and took a big gulp of air. Raven retreated a few more steps and Wells met her halfway, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Raven murmured, not looking directly at Clarke. Clarke turned completely away from Raven, looking up to the ceiling and trying to compose herself. She didn't acknowledge Lexa, but she also didn't release her hand. She turned back around after what seemed an endless minute.

"I'm sorry, too. I know I've been doing better, but please try your best not to startle me like that." Clarke tugged Lexa closer to where Raven and Wells were standing. "I see everything." Raven finally looked up, eyes slightly glazed, and nodded.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose, Raven, but right now I need a bit of space."

"You are _not_ sleeping in a library tonight!" Lexa could see that Wells was just as confused as she was, but she spoke up.

"Clarke can stay at my place tonight." Clarke latched onto the idea immediately and turned back to the bedroom, pulling Lexa with her again.

"I'll be back in the morning." They paused in the doorway as Clarke looked over her shoulder. "And Wells, you were always going to lose that bet." Lexa heard a weak chuckle as the door closed.

A few minutes gathering Clarke's things and an outdoor egress later, she and Clarke stood side by side brushing their teeth.

"Sorry you had to see that," Clarke muttered around the white froth in her mouth. Lexa spit before answering, thinking of the framing of her response.

"You do not need to apologize. I understand." Clarke tilted her head.

"You do?" Lexa rinsed her toothbrush and put it in the holder as she answered.

"My entire childhood was spent on Army bases, and my father was deployed on multiple occasions. I have encountered...much worse responses to someone being startled." Clarke was clearly surprised, and Lexa could practically see the questions forming in her mind. Lexa rarely talked about her background with anyone, but was not surprised that it hadn't come up in her talks with Clarke thus far- she'd perfected vaguing her answers up and misdirecting whenever the topic strayed too close, and Clarke had tended to avoid talking about service in general.

Clarke didn't ask anything though, just put down her toothbrush and started washing her face. Lexa left her to it, heading out to set up bedding on the floor (she'd slept on Clarke's floor several more times since the night a few weeks before Thanksgiving). She was settling into the blankets when Clarke emerged from the bathroom and paused before slipping into the bed (she'd stopped protesting when Lexa took the floor). Lexa heard her rustling around getting comfortable before it was quiet.

"For the record," she offered, "I really enjoyed kissing you." There was a beat, but then Clarke agreed,

"I enjoyed it, too, Lex." Lexa smiled as warmth bloomed again in her heart. A few minutes passed before Clarke called out her name again.

"Yes, Clarke?"

"Can you come and just hold me until I go to sleep?" Lexa was up before Clarke finished her request, slipping under the covers (it was impractical of her _not_ to slide under, really) and pulling Clarke to her. She felt Clarke go boneless against her shoulder and they both sighed. Lexa lay still, listening to Clarke's breathing become regular over time, and felt herself drifting off. Her last thought before she fell asleep was ' _I should really move back to the floor_.'


	10. They all go to PT

Clarke sprung awake, unsure of where she was for the briefest moment. Eyes casting wildly around, she recognized the layout of Raven's room but not the furniture in it. She was still wondering why the room was more earthy woods than modern tone when a small groan snapped her attention to the other side of the bed. Clarke felt herself go very still as she strained to hear more, not sensing any cause for panic (aside from the fact that Raven had remodeled without telling her. And that there was now a fire escape out of Raven's window and oh. She was in Lexa's room). Forcing herself to breathe, Clarke edged toward a second groan and poked her head over the side of the bed.

Lexa was sprawled on the ground, her sleep shirt ridden up almost indecently, showing a hint of dark ink on her rib cage. Her arm was draped over her eyes, and a small pout was on her face. Clarke felt herself grinning as Lexa peeked up at her.

"Ok down there?" Lexa mock glared at her.

"You pushed me." Clarke tried to bite back a smile as what had happened between them the night before came rushing back. Hesitating only a moment, she slipped out of bed and down to hover over Lexa. She brought her lips to Lexa's elbow and kissed softly.

"Better?" Lexa blinked sleepily, and pointed to her lips.

"Hurts." Clarke smiled widely and leaned down, diverting to Lexa's cheek at the last moment. Lexa pouted harder as Clarke pulled back completely, standing up completely.

"Sorry, I am a firm believer in not subjecting people to my morning breath." She reached down and offered Lexa a hand up.

"The dirtier your mouth, the better, Clarke." Clarke just raised her eyebrow before ducking into the bathroom to brush her teeth. After she was finished, she came out to see Lexa snuggled back in the bed.

"Seriously though, I'm sorry for pushing you out of bed. I don't do well sleeping with other people." Clarke could see the indecision on Lexa's face about how to react to the statement. Lexa patted the space beside her.

"We will just have to work on that, then."

* * *

Clarke re-entered Raven's apartment a few hours later, slightly tousled and worked up. She made sure to close the front door loudly, but Wells was nowhere to be seen. Raven glanced up from reading her book on the couch at the noise.

"You look frustrated, Sarge. Willows not deliver?" It was a calculated statement, Clarke could tell. Raven was one to alternate between pushing and backing off. This was her pushing, but Clarke didn't mind this morning, and decided to throw Raven a bone.

"I would've, really. I just want it to mean something with her." Raven put down her book and indicated the space beside her.

"Sounds like you need some girl talk." Clarke flopped down and sighed heavily and thought about where to start. Raven shifted closer, but waited patiently for Clarke to begin.

"I just…I don't know the last time I felt like this about someone." Raven hummed, and Clarke looked at her. "Actually, is it crazy to say I've never felt like this about someone?"

"Not crazy," Raven murmured, pulling Clarke down to lay in her lap and began running her fingers through Clarke's hair. They were quiet for a minute before Raven spoke again, hesitantly. "When...let me know if it's okay to talk about this, ok?" Clarke nodded. "When I was reprimanded for my relationship," (Clarke only slightly winced at the thought of Finn) "you could've requested that we be separated because of it. Instead, do you remember what you told me?" Clarke swallowed. She did remember.

"Life is more about more than just surviving."

"Yeah. I've had some pretty harsh reality checks recently. I could've very easily shut out the world, gone through the motions. But I choose to experience life. I opened myself up to people, and that helped to heal my body and my soul. Your mother-" Clarke groaned. Raven tapped Clarke's forehead. "Shush. I know you aren't on the best of terms, Clarke, but your mother has done so much for me- she got me contacts with fantastic therapists. You know she has connections."

"Only you could plug my mother in a discussion about love." Raven's hand stilled in Clarke's hair.

"Oh, are we talking love here?" Clarke paused, and Raven went on, "...and we're going back to you using 'plug' and 'mother' in the same sentence at some point."

"Gross, Reyes. Could you maybe not?" Raven smirked down at her, and Clarke sat back up, becoming serious. "Is it too early to talk about love? I hardly know Lexa, and she...she doesn't make me forget, but she reminds me that there is so much more." Clarke jumped to her feet, starting to pace. "I've only known her for a few months! I don't even know what she does for work, or why she is gone so often. But I can't help but feel this pull and it drives me crazy, because I want to sleep with her in a million different ways and cook dinner with her and go for walks…" Clarke stopped, looking at Raven. "I want to do it all right, and my life has been so wrong for a while now." Raven twisted her face in thought.

"You deserve happiness, Clarke. You can go as fast or as slow as you want: every relationship is different, whether it be as romantic partners or platonic friends, or something in between. You should follow your gut feeling. I've known you long enough to know you have damn good judgement."

"Don't give me a big head, Reyes." A shit-eating grin.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now, help me up, I've got PT in an hour and should maybe get ready to go." An odd desire struck Clarke.

"Do you think I could go with you?" Clarke saw Raven start in surprise (for one of many reasons: she didn't want to guess) before schooling her features and nodding.

Half an hour later, they exited the elevator to see Miller arguing with someone out of sight. Miller's posture was defensive and his tone was firm and had a tinge of anger.

"I can't give out that information, I'm sorry, Sir." Clarke came around the corner and stopped dead, as the now revealed second person stepped toward her, arms outstretched even as Miller came out from behind his desk to stand between them.

"Clarke." She felt a swell of several different emotions - dread, happiness, calm, panic - and didn't know what to say.

"Lincoln." Clarke was amazed that her voice came out so even. Raven was looking between the two of them: Lincoln had been transferred to Clarke's command after Raven had been sent home, so they didn't know each other. Clarke felt the other woman step a hair closer, and squeeze her elbow in silent question. Clarke relaxed minutely, and saw a tick of a smile on Lincoln's mouth, though he didn't move closer. She turned to Miller.

"Miller, Raven, this is Lincoln. He and I served together. I apologize if he pressured you in any way, but I promise his bark is worse than his bite." Miller relaxed as well, and a silence fell before being broken by Raven.

"Well, this is a nice reunion and all, but I have somewhere to be. Griff?" Clarke saw it for what it was (an out), but knew she had to at least acknowledge Lincoln. He had been trying to reach her for weeks, after all.

"I'm going with Raven to her PT." Lincoln sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. "But…" He looked up, "you can come with us to get there, if it's all right with her." Raven shrugged and pushed past him, waving at them both to follow. Clarke caught Miller's questioning glance and shot a grateful look at him as the three exited the building.

They were quiet on their way to the subway station. Clarke was thinking furiously until she asked, "Murphy told you where I was?"

"Yes." They reached the platform.

"What an ass."

"No one has heard from you in a while. We were worried."

"And you drew the short straw?" The train pulled up, and they got on. Lincoln shot a glance at Raven, and Clarke huffed. "You can say what you want in front of Reyes. She probably got a full report from my mother as soon as we shipped back."

"Your mother?"

"Now wait just a minute-" Two voices spoke at once, but Clarke held up a hand.

"Don't even try, Reyes. You know it's true." Raven looked like she was going to argue, but went with looking unapologetic. Clarke rolled her eyes, but was surprised to feel no resentment to her friend. "Lincoln, I'm fine. You can report back to everyone that I'm doing just fine." Lincoln frowned.

"We just care about you, Clarke. After you fell off the grid the first time, we worried. When you started your check-ins we all were so much more connected, but even Myles said he hadn't heard from you in a while, and we were worried."

"Myles?"

"Yeah, he's talking now." Clarke couldn't shut out the fact that she cared, no matter how she tried.

"How long has he…"

"Murphy told me that Myles spoke to him for the first time after you yelled at him over the phone." Clarke felt shame bubble up, felt Raven looking at her in confusion, felt Lincoln put his hand on her shoulder. "Stop that," he demanded, and Clarke was startled enough to look into his eyes. "Despite your...method, you were the one to get through to him. We are all grateful for that." Clarke hummed.

"Murphy and Atom reached out, they knew I was heading here."

"Well, you can report that I'm doing just fine when you get back."

"Clarke, I'm moving here, to the city." Clarke blinked and stumbled as the subway ground to a halt and Raven led them out toward the street again.

"Seriously?" Clarke couldn't help it: she didn't expect to feel such joy at the prospect of Lincoln being so close again, but she genuinely cared for him, and was excited to have him back in her life, even if was fairly sudden. Lincoln nodded, returning the grin as they awkwardly embraced on the escalator.

"If I didn't know you were into Lexa, Sarge, I'd draw a completely different conclusion from this sight in front of me." Raven had her eyebrow raised as Clarke pulled back, laughing as she swatted her friend.

"Lexa, huh?" He raised his eyebrow and he and Clarke soon fell into a familiar banter that kept on until they reached the building where Raven did PT. Lincoln did a double take a the sign.

"This is where my doctor suggested I go for my PT. Do you mind if I come in to scope out the place?"

"Not an issue, if you want to observe my session, you'll have to clear it with O. Same applies to you, Griff. No sketching without her go-ahead." She led them into the building, and Lincoln turned to Clarke.

"Sketching?"

"I'm starting to do art again. I'm super rusty, and Raven is a nice subject." Raven turned to glare as they passed multiple offices before heading into a small waiting area.

"Nice is all you got? I changed my mind, I'm deeply insulted and you are never allowed to use my image again." Clarke rolled her eyes and pulled out her sketchbook anyway.

"Who is insulting you, Raven?" Came a new voice by the door. Clarke looked up to see the long-haired brunette, Octavia (she vaguely remembered her from their first ill-fated movie night) standing at the other end of the room.

"Raven's just being Raven. I'm Clarke, we've met before. I was hoping to do some sketches of Raven doing her movement exercises?" a small cough behind her, and Clarke turned to see a look on Lincoln's face she'd never seen before. "This is Lincoln. He was referred here and wondered if he could observe as well?" Clarke exchanged a look with Raven as Octavia and Lincoln looked at each other for the first time. They seemed enthralled, holding eye contact for much longer than socially acceptable.

"This is what being around you and Lexa is like. Has been since you met." Raven clapped her hands in front of Octavia's face, and Octavia blinked and focused on Raven, her neck turning pink. "Okay! I'm assuming you have no problem with them being in the room, so let's get this started. God knows this is going to be a totally unproductive session, so we may as well get over with." Clarke followed a spluttering Lincoln out of the room, patting his back.

"Don't worry, you get used to Raven."


	11. Prior Day

Lexa was still undecided about the new developments in her life, particularly her life outside of her job. It had been a long time since she had anything close to what she had with Clarke (though they’d yet to define it, and Clarke always fled the room when things got too intense), or even what she was starting to develop with Raven. For a long while, her only interactions with Raven had been passing in the hallway and the one time she’d been particularly annoyed with the noise coming from the apartment next door and practically banged the door down to get Raven’s attention. 

 

The truth was, Lexa wasn’t particularly acquainted with the concept of _friends_. Anya was probably the closest person she could consider a friend, and they really only interacted in the context of physical exercise. They understood one another, yes, but didn’t feel the need to seek opportunities to ‘hang out’: they were both busy people.

 

Through her interest in Clarke, however, Lexa found herself suddenly rich in people constantly _wanting_ to know about why she had a bad or good day, what her history was (she mostly dodged those questions), and what she _did_ for work.

 

“I told you, Octavia. I run an international consulting firm.” Octavia frowned, clearly not satisfied with the answer, before she opened her mouth to ask, probably yet _again_. She was thankfully interrupted, though, by Clarke returning from Raven’s kitchen with snacks.

 

“Tell your girlfriend to stop bugging Lexa, Lincoln.” Lincoln’s dark skin flushed, but he didn’t deny it. Clarke had told Lexa what had happened at Raven’s PT appointment the week previously. Lexa didn’t have all the context to who Lincoln was, other than he and Clarke served together, but she found that she enjoyed Lincoln’s company more than anyone else not named Clarke at the current event (a Christmas Eve party hosted by Raven).

 

Lexa sipped her drink and turned her attention to Clarke. She’d noticed Raven keeping a particular eye on Clarke the whole party, and had picked up the habit, figuring that Raven’s attentiveness was for a reason. Lexa had noticed a few times that both Clarke and Lincoln had tensed: once when the clumsy Jasper (who she had recognized vaguely from running into him in the building on the day she’d first met Clarke) knocked over the living room lamp (he was still terrified of her from their initial meeting, and his fear had been reinforced by her glare when he’d frightened Clarke), and once when the door banged open to announce Octavia’s entrance (because Octavia seemed to have trouble doing anything quietly or with any sort of finesse). Currently, Clarke had her head tilted, peering at her in contemplation.

 

“Yes, Clarke?” A smile twitched into being.

 

“I really like how you say my name.”

 

“I am unsure of what you mean, Clarke,” Lexa said back, throwing a teasing tone into her response. Clarke leaned in to peck her quickly on the lips before drawing back as another knock sounded on the door. Lexa felt warmth bloom in her chest- stronger than anything she remembered. Reaching down, she threaded Clarke’s hand with hers and gave a genuine smile.

 

“Mama G! You said you couldn’t make it!” Lexa felt Clarke still beside her, and glanced sideways. The older woman in the doorway was brunette, with dark eyes and sharp features. She was slim, shifting from one side to another, her hands playing with a wine bottle. Raven had called out to her, and bound from her place in Wells’ lap to pull the woman into a hug. While there was still holiday music in the background, the room chatter died as everyone looked to the new (late) addition to the festivities. Everyone, that is, except Clarke. Wells rose from his seat to follow Raven and Clarke still hadn’t turned around. 

 

“Clarke?” Lexa squeezed her hand, and Clarke let out a long breath. Raven was talking behind her, likely introducing the woman, but Lexa’s sole focus was now on the blonde beside her, watching emotions cycle on her face before settling on something like resignation. Clarke squeezed her hand back (a good sign?) before turning to Lexa.

 

“My mother.” Lexa nodded, having surmised this, but as Clarke rose to follow Wells, disentangling their hands, she felt the loss of heat and noted Clarke’s suddenly perfect posture. Clarke stopped in front of her mother, Raven and Wells backing away (Raven looked half guilty and half pleased with herself) to give them space. The room was still quiet when Clarke reached out to take the bottle of wine.

 

“Happy Prior Day, mom.” Lexa saw Mrs. Griffin blink with sudden emotion before gently drawing her daughter in. Clarke allowed a brief hug before breaking away to the kitchen with the bottle of wine. 

 

“Abby, let me introduce you.” This came from Wells, who led her to where all of Raven’s seating (and some of Lexa’s) was arranged in a circle around the television in preparation for a claymation marathon. When Wells introduced her, Lexa stood up respectfully (she heard one of the annoying people -probably Jasper- snicker before being cut off) and held out her hand.

 

“Lexa...as in...?” she asked, raising her eyebrow at Raven and Wells. Lexa blinked in some confusion before Raven jumped in.

 

“Yeah, as in my neighbor who Clarke was definitely _not_ dating at Thanksgiving.” Clarke had come up behind Lexa and audibly huffed behind her, but didn’t speak before Lexa jumped in.

 

“It is very nice to meet you, Mrs. Griffin,” She held out her hand. The woman took it, tilting her head to the side in a reflection of Clarke’s mannerisms, and _yes, they were related._

 

“It’s nice to meet you, young lady. Please call me Abby- Raven’s told me _so_ much about you.” Lexa detected a hint of sarcasm and frowned.

 

“Mom.” Clarke’s voice was ice, and Lexa was surprised to hear the bite. Abby drew back from Lexa quickly, turning to look at her daughter apologetically, before moving on to more people that Wells was introducing. Lexa felt elated that Clarke reached back for her hand, and drew them together to sit back down. Chatter was starting up again, and Abby was talking with Octavia and Raven about Raven’s progress, so Lexa pressed a kiss to Clarke’s temple.

 

“Prior Day?” she asked quietly. Clarke smiled sadly and turned to nuzzle into Lexa’s shoulder before answering her question in a low murmur.

 

“My dad’s family were hardcore agnostics. Like they referred to Christmas as the Day of Presents,” Lexa snorted softly, and she felt Clarke smile against her arm. “Shush. Christmas Eve was Prior Day. Happy Prior Day, Lexa.” Clarke drew back and Lexa locked eyes.

 

“Happy Prior Day, Clarke.” Clarke leaned forward again and kissed her.

 

“So...definitely not dating, like I said,” Raven’s voice snapped them out of their moment and they turned to see everyone in the room looking at them. Lexa felt herself start to blush, and went to pull back, but Clarke held her in place long enough to bump their noses.

 

“Fuck you, Reyes.”

 

“Language, Clarke.” Abby’s tone was more mocking thank serious, and Clarke just rolled her eyes in good humor. Lexa noticed Wells relaxing minutely at Clarke’s response.

 

“I’d say anytime, Sarge, but I doubt Lexa would be up for a four-way with me and Wells.” Clarke groaned and buried her head back into Lexa.

 

“Raven, my _mom_ is right next to you.”

 

“Clarke, I’m a doctor. I treat people every day that get into trouble by some very questionable activities.”

 

“Wait,” Jasper broke in, “Raven, you said Lexa would be the problem. Does that mean…” Monty clapped a hand over Jasper’s mouth the same time Clarke threw a pillow in his direction.

 

“Jasper, I’d stop there,” Raven said, but Lexa noted everyone was smiling (except Clarke, who was bright red). Jasper looked like he would say more, but Monty kept him silent. 

 

The night proceeded from there. Someone started up the movies, but they were mostly for background noise as everyone (save Lincoln, who seemed riveted) devolved into conversations. Lexa found herself coaxed into a glass of wine by Clarke (“Seriously, my mom has fantastic taste in wine”), but refrained from the heavier drinking that was starting to take place, especially by Octavia, Raven, Jasper, and Monty (Clarke also didn’t drink more than one glass of her mother’s - admittedly delicious- wine). Around midnight, Abby excused herself (“my ride is here, Raven. You kids have fun, and thanks for inviting me.” “Seriously, Mama G., you’re the best!” “I’ll see you again, Jasper; there’s no need to cry.”) and things only got wilder. Octavia’s brother, Bellamy, showed up not much later and Lexa and Clarke enjoyed his grouchy face as he glared at Lincoln - obliviously still captivated by claymation.

 

Bellamy finally got fed up by Lincoln’s lack of response and turned off the television, starting to interrogate Lincoln: about his family, his job, and his service. Lincoln seemed to be answering the questions calmly, but Lexa could feel Clarke start to tense beside her once more, so she tugged Clarke to her feet and started leading her out the door, waving a goodbye to Raven and Monty, who were talking about metal alloys (or at least, that’s what Lexa _thought_ they were talking about).

 

The moment Lexa’s apartment door closed, Clarke let out a big sigh.

 

“Clarke?” Lexa felt the need to ask so many questions, but restrained herself. Clarke turned toward her with a small smile.

 

“Thank you for staying near me tonight.” Lexa nodded as Clarke stepped toward her. Feeling slightly uncertain, she stepped backward and Clarke’s smile turned slightly predatory. Her eyes darkened as she put her hands on either side of the door, backing Lexa into the solid wood by pressing their bodies flush. Lexa felt a flash of heat travel from her heart to the tips of every limb, before settling low in her abdomen. Clarke captured her lips before Lexa could respond, but she automatically wound her arms around Clarke, one hand slipping up to tangle in silky golden hair. The battled for dominance for a minute, tongue's crashing together and lips quickly becoming swollen before Clarke detached and turned away suddenly.

 

“I…” Clarke ran her hand through her hair, stepping further into the apartment. Lexa felt the need to follow her, reaching out before withdrawing as Clarke whirled suddenly back to face her. “I need to show you something.” Lexa tilted her head, trying to calm her racing heart back to a steady rhythm: Clarke’s voice was serious but also uncertain. Lexa simply nodded, and Clarke turned to head into the bedroom, turning the lights on and drawing the blinds. Lexa followed behind her, closing the door. Clarke started pacing, distressed face betraying troubled thoughts. Lexa stopped her gently with a hand to her elbow.

 

“You can talk to me, Clarke.” She saw Clarke gulp, then take a deep breath before leading Lexa to sit on the bed. She stayed standing, running her hand once again through her hair before starting.

 

“My last deployment. My squad...we were...I was…” Clarke’s eyes filled up, but she took a deep breath and continued. “I came back with scars.” Clarke was fiddling with the hem of her sweater. Lexa held out her hand, Clarke coming to stand directly in front of her.

 

“Some scars are physical. Some are mental.” Lexa looked directly into Clarke’s eyes from her seated position, knowing that whatever happened next, the relationship she had with Clarke was dependent on staying calm and pledging her support. “Some are both.” Lexa brushed her thumb over Clarke’s knuckles. “I am here, Clarke.” Clarke stepped back briefly, grasping the hem of her shirt and pulling it slowly, but deliberately, over her head. Normally Lexa would have been distracted by the black lace on Clarke’s chest, but her eyes were drawn elsewhere immediately.

 

Clarke’s skin was a knot of scar tissue- from criss-crossing delicate lines to large burns. Lexa felt immediate rage that humans could be so deplorable as to cause one another such pain. Her rage burned into compassion for Clarke’s suffering, then into admiration. She leaned forward, aware that Clarke’s eyes were studying her, and kissed the largest scar - a jagged and thick uneven line stretching from behind Clarke’s back to her opposite hip.

 

“You are magnificent,” Lexa said. Clarke bubbled out an incredulous laugh, but Lexa just repeated herself, kissing another scar - this one a small round burn. “Magnificent, Clarke. I am serious, that is what you are.” She met Clarke’s eyes again to see them water. “You can tell me about them, if you want. Now, or some other day, or never.” Lexa swallowed, feeling the swell growing in her heart. “You are magnificent, and you make me feel _so much_.” Lexa felt her eyes also start watering, but it was more to do with the sudden realization that she may actually _love_ this woman in front of her. She turned away, overwhelmed, and felt the bed dip beside her, then a gentle hand at her chin.

 

“Hey.” She met Clarke’s blue eyes. “You’re pretty magnificent, too, you know.” Clarke pulled her into a hug and Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke, feeling with her hands the scars directly on Clarke’s skin. They held each other tightly before breaking away with teary smiles. Lexa grabbed a couple tissues from her bedside table and offered one up. Clarke took it with a nod and a quiet thanks.

 

“Let’s go to bed,” Lexa suggested. Clarke hummed in agreement as Lexa grabbed two pairs of shorts and tee shirts and threw a set to Clarke. She ducked into her bathroom first, and when she emerged, Clarke was shifting her weight back and forth, tugging at the shorts. Lexa smiled, despite seeing a plethora of new scars exposed. “Hey.” Clarke looked up and drew her hands back, crossing her arms across her chest. Lexa pulled her in for a deep kiss before drawing back. “You are a fantastic kisser, too.” Clarke broke into a smile. “But you really need to brush your teeth. Mint and wine are not complementary tastes.” Lexa got a sassy tongue sticking out at her as Clarke padded into the bathroom. She was making her bed up on the floor when Clarke emerged.

 

“We can try the bed together again, if you want.”

 

“Only if you are comfortable, Clarke.”

 

“Come on, weirdo. There’s enough space.” Lexa turned off the lights before joining Clarke under the covers, relaxing when Clarke immediately snuggled up to her, pressing a soft kiss against Lexa’s neck. Lexa hummed, tilting her head back slightly as Clarke’s kisses drew close to her jaw. Lexa felt a smile break onto her face, and ran her hand gently down Clarke’s bare arm for the first time. Clarke stuttered to a stop, but Lexa ducked her head to kiss Clarke’s lips quickly and drew her closer.

 

“You’re wonderful, Lex. Thank you.” Lexa smiled.

 

“You are magnificent, and I am wonderful. What a pair we make.” Clarke weakly swatted her in the limited space, but Lexa was still smiling when they both fell asleep.


	12. Raven tries to do good part 2

Raven was rustling through the fridge when she felt Wells come up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up and back into him. She felt a smile creep onto her face when his breath tickled her ear as he spoke.

“What would you be doing in there, hmmm?”

“Looking for breakfast.” He chuckled and placed a quick kiss on her neck.

“Step away, then. No need to burn the pop tarts again.” She spun around, feeling lighthearted.

“One time!” She protested. She saw her front door open, admitting a ruffled looking Clarke. “Griffin, back me up!” Clarke looked up at them and tilted her head, examining their position.

“Sorry, Reyes. If it’s about your cooking ability, I am firmly with Wells on this one. You’d starve without me; admit it, I saved your scrawny ass from scurvy when I moved in.” Raven pouted at both of them, but they caught each other's gaze and started laughing.

Raven was happy she got to see this side of Clarke: when she’d been transferred to a new platoon, she’d been extremely leery of the other woman. Clarke was serious about her position, and rarely let her guard down, even in their off time. Clarke inspired respect without trying, and took responsibility as a natural leader. They’d grown a closer on their deployment together, but Clarke had kept most of her walls up even when in close quarters. Since starting to hang out with Wells (were they dating yet? Spending Christmas with his family put them in the dating category, right?), Raven had picked up bits and pieces of information about Clarke before she joined, probably more information than Clarke may be comfortable with her knowing, to be honest.

“You both suck...but you may be right,” Raven conceded.

“Did you hear that, Wells? Raven said I was right! Take note!” Raven growled good-naturedly and took a menacing step toward Clarke, who held up her hands. “Easy, I’ve got dinner planned with Lexa later, I need my face to stay pretty.”

“So you admit that I could still kick your ass, Griffin?” Wells stepped forward quickly at this.

“Easy, ladies. No fighting on Christmas.” Raven noted a flicker of something darken Clarke’s eyes for the briefest moment before she smiled at both of them.

“Day of Presents.” She said, and Wells laughed.

“Happy Day of Presents, Clarke.” Raven was slightly confused, but figured Wells would explain it to her later.

“You, too.” Wells started pull things from the fridge to cook. Clarke came over to sit on the stool by the counter.

“You going home today?” She asked quietly. He nodded, indicating Raven as he prepped the bacon.

“Raven’s coming.”

“Oh, cool.” He hesitated before going on.

“You know both you and Lexa are welcome, right?” Raven saw Clarke’s eyes tighten. Her shoulders dropped and she looked down to her hands, fiddling with her fingers.

“Thanks, Wells. I don’t think this year.” She paused, before looking back up. “Besides, I saw my mom last night at the party.” She turned to address Raven, taking a deep breath. “Thanks for inviting her, Raven.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Sarge.” Raven noted it was the right thing to say, as the mood lightened up. Clarke ate breakfast with them, chatting easily before Raven and Wells got ready to go. As they headed toward the door, Clarke emerged from her room holding, of all things, two canvas’. Wells was frozen beside her as Clarke held them out.

“For your dad and my mom.” Raven took the paintings as Wells reanimated and grabbed Clarke in a hug, lifting her off the ground. He gave her an exaggerated kiss on the cheek as she tried to fend him off. Raven just watched, amused. “Gross, Wells. I don’t know where that mouth has been.” Raven was about to answer the question when Clarke’s head snapped to her, “don’t elaborate, for the love of God, or I _swear_ Reyes!” Raven just grinned and took Wells’ hand, pulling him from the apartment.

“Have fun with Lexa, Griff. I may be home tomorrow!” She closed the door on Clarke’s splutter, dragging Wells to the elevator. As they descended, she glanced at the paintings in her hand. One was a landscape of a cabin on a lake surrounded by a beautiful forest and mountains, and the other was a more abstract depiction of a flower.

“A lily,” Wells said. “For my dad: lilies were my mom’s favorite flower.” He pointed to the landscape. “That’s the cabin that Clarke’s dad grew up in - we used to go up there every summer for a few weeks. I don’t think Abby’s been there since Jake died.”

“It sucks that you both lost parents.” Wells offered her a thin smile, but only nodded. They talked a little bit about Christmas traditions as they made their way out of the city to the Jaha house. 

* * *

Watching Abby receive the painting of the cabin made even Raven tear up. She smacked Wells in the arm. He yelped and shot her a confused look. “I’d be fine if you hadn’t told me what that meant,” she said, jabbing her finger at the painting. Wells didn’t look the least bit apologetic, and only smiled at her, planting a kiss on her cheek and hugging her closer.

Christmas Day ( _Day of Presents_ ) wrapped up with a game of Scattergories, where Raven learned that Wells’ dad was a terrible cheat, and a consumption of take-out. Evidently, Wells and Clarke were the only ones who knew how to cook in the family. They decided to head back to Wells’ place after Abby left for a shift at work and Thelonius headed home.

“It’s kinda sad that they’re alone,” she said as Wells navigated the city streets carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hands tighten on the wheel for a moment before relaxing.

“Dad always said that my mom was the love of his life, and as long as I was happy, he was happy too. I think he likes you.” Raven felt contentment blooming in her chest. She hadn’t had the best of upbringings, and her adult life hadn’t been much better, but she found herself being surrounded by a sense of safety for the first time in a long time.

“It’s only because I backed him up about ‘moon’ being a way to get from here to there,” she mumbled, and Wells laughed.

“You both were totally wrong, but Abby and I just got tired of your arguments.”

“You wish you could out-logic me, Jaha,” she shot back, and his smile widened.

“It’s what I get for dating a genius,” he stated, and she rolled her eyes. A few turns later and they were back at his apartment. It was much smaller than the one she shared with Clarke, more of an efficiency. Wells grabbed a beer for both of them, then joined Raven where she’d flopped onto the couch.

“I wish Clarke talked to Abby more. It’s hard when I go in for check-ups and I have to answer questions that she should know.” Wells was picking at the label on the bottle before he looked up at her.

“They’ve always had a...difficult relationship. It got worse when Clarke’s dad died.”

“Daddy’s girl, huh?” Wells grimaced.

“You should really talk to Clarke about this…” he started, but Raven waved him off.

“I’m just trying to understand. Even though I spent every day with her for months, she was always...distant. Hard to read, and most of what she showed was only superficial. I did the same thing - it could be hard to be female in the Marines.” At his concerned look, she went on, “there was nothing too crazy that happened, but both of us were constantly having to prove ourselves competent. Because she was in a leadership position, she had more pressure to...present only a certain part of herself.”

“She’s always been good at compartmentalizing.” Wells looked at Raven intently. “I know I’ve said this already, but I really am grateful you let her stay at your place.” He held up a hand before Raven could say anything. “I’m serious. I haven’t seen her truly happy in a long time. You’ve been good for her, and I will never be able to repay you.” She arched her eyebrow.

“Well, I’ve got a few ideas…” she noted suggestively, and he huffed but smirked slightly. As Wells pulled her beer from her hand and put it on the coffee table next to his own, Raven was able to add one more comment. “I think Clarke’s happiness has more to do with Lexa than…” Wells covered her mouth with his own before pulling back and looking at her with dark eyes.

“No more speculation from you tonight.”

* * *

Raven hung her keys by the door (Clarke had put up hooks because “Raven, it’s _impossible_ to find shit in here!”) before calling out for her roommate. With no answer, Raven realized that Clarke’s running shoes were gone and the other woman was out for a run. 

Raven limped to her room, throwing on more appropriate workout clothes before shoving things in her bag she’d need for her PT/gym session with Octavia. Rather than lounging about for the hour or so she had to spare, she decided to walk most of the way to the clinic. Locking the door once more behind her, she turned to see Lexa also stepping out of her apartment. 

“Hello, Raven.”

“Hey neighbor,” Raven greeted, an idea coming to her mind suddenly. “What are you doing right now?” Lexa looked slightly confused at the question, before indicating at the bags in her hand.

“Groceries.”

“May I walk with you?” Raven received a nod in answer, then Lexa pressed the button the elevator. Raven paused, trying to decide how to start the conversation. As the lift arrived and they entered, Raven noted Lexa glancing at her sideways. To her surprise (Lexa wasn’t one Raven associated with conversation), Lexa spoke first.

“Are you heading to Octavia’s for physical therapy?” Raven blinked.

“Yes. O’s been great in getting me more range of motion.”

“I am glad.” As they stepped into the lobby, Raven waved to Miller, who waved back with a smile. They descended the steps before Raven spoke again.

“Listen, I need to talk to you.”

“Is that not what we are doing?” Lexa asked, a smirk curling up one side of her mouth. Raven rolled her eyes.

“I remember the days before Griffin was around when you were the silent neighbor with no sass.” Lexa colored slightly, but her smirk turned into a shy smile. “But in all seriousness, Lexa. Clarke has been through a lot.” Lexa’s smile dropped, but she did nod in acknowledgment. Raven went on, hiking her bag further up her shoulder from where it had slipped. “I can only begin to understand what she’s been through, but I am trying.”

“Raven…” Lexa stopped as Raven spun to face her. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at each other. Raven was impressed that Lexa held her gaze, even if her voice had trailed off.

“I hardly know you, for all we’ve been neighbors for a while. Clarke is one of the most wonderful people I know, and she has been so much happier since she’s been doing...whatever it is y’all are doing. But, neighbor or not, you hurt her and I’ll hurt you, capiche?” Though Lexa looked slightly bemused, she was sincere in her reply.

“It is not my intention to harm Clarke. I have not felt this way about another person in a very long time. You notice that she is happier with me? Well, I am also happier with her. She challenges me, inspires me, and makes me a better person. I would never intentionally harm Clarke.” Raven blinked.

“Okay. That is the most I’ve heard you talk at once.” Lexa shrugged one shoulder, but was smiling widely again. “Now that the talk is out of the way, tell me about the company you work for.” Raven weaved her arm through Lexa’s elbow and they walked together as she listened to Lexa describe (vaguely) what she did for a living.

Later that night, when Clarke was already sleeping, Raven did more research on Lexa’s company. The website was efficient, and just as vague as Lexa’s description had been. Raven didn’t exactly understand what ‘International Consulting’ was, but got the gist that Coalition Industries worked as an independent agency to investigate various claims. 

Digging deeper, Raven surmised that Coalition was called into situations to provide an outsider’s eye: they worked with businesses of various sizes and even with a few private citizens, specializing in international law. Most alarming was their partnership with various national militaries - Raven didn’t know that Lexa was involved in anything with the military, and it made her slightly uneasy. When she’d looked in circles with little to no answers on specific claims Coalition investigated, Raven finally found the name of their current CEO: Lexa Willows.

Pushing her computer back and away from her, Raven stood up and moved to her window. On one hand, she was neighbors with a woman who ran a company involved in military investigation, at least as an independent researcher. On the other, Clarke was clearly falling head over heels for the woman. After a long moment of thought, Raven decided to talk more to Lexa before bringing anything up with Clarke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is mostly finished, should be along soon...


	13. One phone call can change a hundred lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is pretty heavy...trigger warning for anxiety attack

Clarke was elbow deep in paint when her phone rang. She glanced to see a restricted number and she felt her heart immediately sink. Her gut started churning as she sat, frozen, staring at the screen. The call dropped after five rings, but after a moment it started to ring again. She wiped her shaking hands as best she could before answering.

“Griffin.” The voice on the other end of the call was crisp, and to the point. Clarke found herself answering automatically, without truely processing the actual words exchanged

The click at the end of the call was sudden. Clarke followed the track of her phone as it slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor. Her mind raced in circles, trying to reconcile what she’d just agreed to, what she’d been asked to do. Before she could fully process anything, her body rebelled and she only just made it to the bathroom before hurling up everything in her stomach. She flushed the toilet, but didn’t wipe the bright red streak left behind on the seat. She stared at the color, red on white on white on _white_.

Her limbs felt weightless and cumbersome all at once as she tried to stand and found she couldn’t - her legs were not cooperating. A deep and oppressive weight was settling on her chest, painful and empty and heavy. She managed to drag herself into the shower and turn it on. As the scalding water hit her still-clothed body, her mind started to replay everything she was normally able to block out, all at once. 

Clarke had experienced helplessness before, but she had never allowed herself to feel weak. She held onto her inner strength as if it were a spark in a rainstorm. Her strength had gotten her through the hazing during training (and the training itself), had helped her ignore everyone who said she was too young, too stupid, too _female_ to ever amount to anything in the Corps. As she gradually gained the respect of her peers and her superiors, and as she moved up through the ranks, that spark had become a burning flame that carried her through the difficult times. It led her through enemy fire overhead while she applied pressure to the remains of an arm. It let her lend her strength to her squad when they were starting to crack. Through every experience, Clarke had held onto the belief that she was strong.

Which is why, sitting in shower in a city she’d been growing to love, her weakness overwhelmed her in such a consuming way; coming in the form of extreme self-doubt, in falling back to the belief that she was only floating on the surface of a life she didn’t deserve. She was actually _drowning_. Locked in an eternal night, a darkness so profound that she couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t _feel_. She was numb all over, and so _consumingly_ vacant.

Everything was hazy around her, but after an intermittent amount of time she sensed the water being turned off and someone -several someones? - yelling (she assumed it was yelling with only passive interest, like a person would notice the ocean looked blue instead of green). The images running in front of her eyes were constant - watching all her squad be tortured, seeing their captors, and shooting Finn. Finn. Finn. Pointing to his chest, knowing that she had no choice, that she had to. _I had to, I had to_.

Someone had her face in their hands. Clarke couldn’t see who. _I had to_. Someone was carrying her...or half-dragging: she couldn’t tell, and didn’t care. She was no longer vertical, and someone was tugging off her feet. No, her shoes. She thought she heard her name, but she closed her eyes. Time passed, or didn’t pass, but her shirt was being tugged and _**NO!**_ She lashed out with fists and legs, connecting solidly with _something_ (or was it some _one_?). Clarke knew she was screaming because her throat hurt - it was the only thing she _could_ feel - and made herself stop, wrapping her arms around her knees.

She’d been responsible for everyone for long enough; that singular thought forced her to start her way out of the darkness. She concentrated on her raw throat, allowing her mind to follow it to dry mouth and the words she was forming. _I had to_. She concentrated on the breath between the words, then on breathing through her nose and shutting her mouth. She started to smell fresh linen, and jerked at the unexpected thought that she’d changed her sheets that morning.

She felt the crisp sheets below her and released her knees to grab the sheets. Her left hand felt tender. She waited until she could feel every one of her fingers before releasing her grip to roll onto her back, bringing her arms over her eyes. She repeated the process with her feet, placing them firmly down and curling her toes around the soft linen. She wiggled them individually before straightening one leg, then the other. Her clothes were soaked. She started taking deep breaths, realizing that she was crying when she hiccuped. Her hearing came back slowly, and she heard a familiar voice.

“...good. Take another deep breath for me, Clarke. In 2 - 3 - 4 - 5, Hold 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -, out 2 - 3 - 4 - 5.” She recognized that voice, wondered if she’d been listening to instructions from that voice all along. She continued breathing for a long while, until she had stopped hiccuping, and wiped her eyes. No one in the room was talking, but Clarke could sense them in the rustling fabrics, in the creak of the floorboards, in their varied breath sounds. 

“Water?” She croaked. Talking was _painful_. She heard someone leave the room and the sound of a distant faucet running before they returned.

“You have to sit up to drink it, Clarke. Can you do that for me?” It was Lexa’s voice, because of course Lexa would be there. Clarke nodded. Here eyes were still closed, so she opened them slowly. She flinched initially, with four people-shapes hovering above her. One of them motioned the others back, and Clarke’s vision started to clear as she shuffled herself up to the headboard, wincing as she put weight on her hand. She lifted it to see it purpling rapidly. She had a side thought that she’d probably broken a bone, and then another thought as she suddenly focused on the people around her to see who she’d hit. Lexa, Raven, Lincoln, and Octavia all surrounded her bed. Of the four, Lexa was closest and shielding part of her face with her hair.

“Lex?” Clarke tentatively reached forward and saw uncertainty flicker across Lexa’s face. Clarke knew what that meant, and drew her hand back, starting to tear up again. Lexa’s eyes widened and she hurried to reassure.

“I am fine, Clarke.”

“I hurt you.” She felt her breathing rate increase again. Lexa crawled to her side slowly, leaning Clarke forward enough to slide behind her. Clarke let her, needing the contact in a way she had not realized. Lexa wrapped her arms around Clarke from behind, and tucked her feet under Clarke’s knees.

“Calm, Clarke. Feel me breathing,” The position and tone of Lexa’s voice had Clarke relaxing- she didn’t realize how tense she’d been until she leaned back into Lexa’s embrace. Octavia came forward with the water as Raven perched herself on the end of the bed. Clarke’s hands were still shaking, so Lexa took the water and helped Clarke sip it. Octavia withdrew and she and Lincoln slumped to the floor together by the bed. Once the water was half-gone, Lexa put it on the night table and returned to hugging Clarke tightly. Clarke let herself melt backwards even more, exhaustion finally making itself known in every cell of her body. No one said anything, but Clarke could tell what the three in front of her were thinking.

Raven and Octavia were both a bit freaked out; Octavia was a bit unsure of what she should be doing (she seemed to be a restless person by nature, and now she was fidgeting with her fingers, not to mention she and Clarke did _not_ know each other well), and Raven was half surprised and half feeling helpless and confused. Lincoln met her stare with nothing but understanding, and Clarke was glad of his quiet strength.

“Sleep, Clarke. We are here.” Clarke felt the vibration of Lexa’s voice through her back, and that was all it took for her to slip away.

* * *

She woke hours later in the same position, with Lexa murmuring quiet reassurance in her ear. Clarke’s whole body was sore, and she stretched within the safety of Lexa’s embrace, noting that though her clothes were still damp, they were under the covers now. Raven was still in the room, passed out in a ball on the end of the bed, but Lincoln and Octavia weren’t there.

“They went to cook dinner,” Lexa sensed her looking for them and answered her unasked question. Clarke nodded and shifted again, aware of how, despite the fact that being in Lexa’s embrace was comfortable, damp clothes were not. Also, her hand was throbbing.

“Clothes?” She croaked. Lexa chuckled behind her and withdrew her arms slightly, running her hands up to Clarke’s shoulders as Clarke started climbing out from the covers, which woke Raven up (the woman was a light sleeper).

“Clarke?” They made eye contact, and Clarke managed a small smile, happy when it was returned, even if Raven looked more uncertain than Clarke had ever seen her. She swung her feet to the floor, standing up slowly and feeling Lexa shift to the edge of the bed. She made her way to her dresser, pulling out dry clothes for both her and Lexa. Though it was fairly dark in the room, Clarke still saw Raven’s look of surprise as Clarke stripped off her wet clothes in front of Lexa, exposing bare skin. Lexa grabbed a set of clothes as she passed Clarke on the way to change in the bathroom, dropping a small kiss to one of Clarke’s shoulder blades.

When they were both dry, Lexa grabbed her hand and led her to the living area. Clarke got a brief glimpse of Octavia straining pasta before she was pulled to the couch to sit. As she did, she caught full sight of the right side of Lexa’s face.

“Shit! I….” Lexa took both Clarke’s hands in her own.

“I am fine, Clarke. It looks worse than it feels.” Lexa ran her thumbs over Clarke’s knuckles and Clarke winced as pain shot again through her left hand. Lexa frowned and pulled the hand closer. Clarke pulled it back gently out of reach.

“I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

“We need to get that set as soon as possible,” Octavia said, coming around to take a quick look at the had. Clarke turned to her. “We’ll take our meal to-go and head over to Hersom. I’ll call us ahead.” Before Clarke could protest, she was heading back to the kitchen, snapping orders at Lincoln and calling Raven to show them where the tupperware was. Clarke thought it was to give her and Lexa a moment alone, and she was grateful.

“I really am sorry, Lexa.” Clarke said, reaching out her good hand to cup the other woman’s face.

“I know, Clarke. I have survived worse, I assure you.”

“What kind of statement is that? I broke my hand on your face!” Lexa was pursing her lips tightly. Clarke at first thought it was in displeasure, but then saw laughter in green eyes. They both started giggling at the same time. 

“Okay, I’d say you’re both good to head out now,” Raven said, reappearing with a travel mug in hand, which she offered to Clarke. “It’s tea, you know, for your froggy throat.” Clarke smiled weakly at her.

“Thanks, Reyes.”

They trooped downstairs, waving to Miller, who looked at them with only slight confusion as they passed. Clarke wasn’t surprised the man had picked up on the tension that was between them all.

A short ride in Raven’s SUV later, they pulled up at the hospital, where because of Octavia’s connections, Clarke was seen right away. After an X-Ray, Clarke was informed that she wouldn’t need surgery and would only need a fracture-brace rather than a full cast, as it was only a hairline fracture. 

The ride back was nearly silent, only Clarke addressing Octavia and Lincoln once to thank them for cooking. Octavia nodded, while Lincoln met her eyes a moment, doing a silent assessment before nodding. The silence began to feel awkward the closer they got to the apartment. 

As they all trooped back inside, Clarke noted that someone had put away her paints. She guessed Lincoln, but supposed it didn’t really matter. Raven saw her looking at the unfinished canvas and spoke up as everyone else hovered.

“I know we shouldn't have moved you so much, but in our defense, there was fucking red paint everywhere and…” Clarke looked sharply at Raven, who flinched back slightly. Clarke refused to be sorry.

“You thought I - that I would - after _everything_ I’ve lived through…” she trailed off as Raven’s eyes started to water before she blinked them rapidly, looking away. Walking over to Raven while the other woman tried to collect herself, she turned Raven’s face back gently. “ _Never_ , do you hear me? I’m sorry I scared you, Ray.” Raven threw her arms around Clarke then, burying her face by Clarke’s neck. Clarke met the other eyes in the room. “I’m sorry that I scared all of you.” Octavia did a jerky nod, and Lincoln stepped forward as soon as Raven released Clarke.

“We fall apart in our own ways. Our strength guides us through when it can, and you have us to lean on when there is too much.” His sincere eyes held hers before pulling her forward. He kissed her forehead and stepped back, giving her an encouraging smile. 

Lexa appeared beside her, holding another glass of water, which she offered to Clarke. The others drifted toward the couch, starting to bicker about what show to watch. To Clarke their talk seemed forced, but she decided to ignore it. Instead, she took Lexa’s hand and tugged her into her room, shutting the door behind them. She took the water from Lexa, downing nearly half of it before putting it down on the bedside table.

Lexa opened her mouth to speak, but Clarke put a finger to her lips. There would be time to talk: later tonight, or tomorrow, but she wanted to delay that. Instead she pulled Lexa to the bathroom and turned on the light.

Clarke noted absently that someone had cleaned the room as she motioned to Lexa to hop on the sturdy counter by the sink. She then used the bright light to look fully at the damage to Lexa’s face. Her right eye was puffy and a spectacular array of colors that bled slightly into her cheek: overnight, Clarke knew it would darken. She lifted fingers to run lightly along the edge of the bruise and Lexa closed her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak again, only for Clarke to tap her lips again. Lexa huffed and her green eyes looked to Clarke’s again.

Clarke often felt that when their eyes connected, Lexa could gaze into her soul. Lexa could convey complicated thoughts and emotions with her expressive eyes, and right now, her eyes were showing concern but also wariness. Clarke sighed and leaned their foreheads together. She felt Lexa tangle her hand into the hair at the back of her neck and sighed deeply.

“Lex-” she started, but Lexa interrupted her.

“No.” Clarke pulled back slightly, head tilting in question. Lexa just shook her head and Clarke knew that neither of them was in a state to listen to the other at the moment. For tonight, they would just be.

* * *

Clarke managed to extract herself without waking Lexa (who, she saw with a pang of guilt, had developed a remarkable shiner) early the next morning, rubbing her face with her uninjured hand as she made her way softly out of her bedroom. Blinking her eyes in the grey early-morning light, she froze as her eyes caught Lincoln, sitting stiffly on a stool in the kitchen talking quietly with Raven. She stopped her forward motion, but Raven spotted her and Raven’s expression caused Lincoln to turn around. Clarke looked down.

“I take it you heard, Linc?” She saw him nod in the corner of her vision, but Raven started clunking toward her, stopping a few feet away. 

“You told me you retired,” Raven stated. Her tone was hurt and accusatory and confused all at once, and Clarke steeled herself before looking back up.

“I was put on mandatory leave until such time an independent investigation was wrapped. At such time, I was offered the choice to reevaluate my continued service.” Clarke threw her shoulders back. “It was a condition that I not discuss my status with anyone -”

“Bullshit,” Raven bit out loudly, stepping into Clarke’s personal space. Clarke’s eyes darted to her closed bedroom door, where she hoped Lexa was still sleeping.

“Raven,” Lincoln called softly. 

“No.” Raven snarled, anger and betrayal taking over her tone now. “She said she had a choice. You told me that she’s going back.” Her voice rose as she got more worked up. “And she lied to us the whole time.” 

“I couldn’t tell you!” Clarke yelled back. “You don’t think I wanted to? Every single day, at the back of my mind was the thought… and then they actually called -”

“And look what you did!” Raven gestured at her bandaged hand. Clarke heard the door open behind her, and Lexa moved cautiously into her field of vision. “You are clearly not ready to…” Clarke closed the final distance between them and grabbed the front of Raven’s shirt.

“Stand down, Private.” Raven blinked at her and then looked down.

“Pulling rank in my own house, Griffin.” She didn’t need to say more: Clarke was aware that the way she’d handled the confrontation was not the best. She released Raven and moved past her to the kitchen, up to Lincoln who hopped up off the stool automatically. Aware of Lexa watching her every move, she motioned him to relax. He did, watching her warily.

“How did you hear?”

“Murphy.”

“And how the _fuck_ did _he_ get his hands on this sort of information?” She knew Lincoln wouldn’t know: hell, even she was wary of asking Murphy his sources. He was canny and elusive, and had a knack for gathering intelligence. Clarke knew that they’d given everyone in her squad the option of honorary discharge: as far as she knew, she was the only one who’d deferred the choice and been put on mandatory leave. Without waiting for Lincoln to answer, Clarke turned back to Raven (and Lexa, who was still looking slightly confused and very adorable, still sleep-ruffled and _oh fuck, what the hell am I doing?_ ).

“I got a call yesterday saying that everything was wrapped, and they wanted me in for a final debrief. Then they asked if I’d made a decision to continue my service. I told them I had.” Raven just looked at her for a moment.

“And then you had a massive anxiety attack that ended with a broken hand.” Raven ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. “Jesus. You think you’re ready to go back into a fucking war zone?” Clarke heard a sharp intake of breath from Lexa and refused to look at her. “Do you not remember what happened the last time you were deployed?” Raven was toeing a line.

“I have skills that are needed. I can make a difference.”

“That’s government reasoning, Clarke, and _you know it_.” Clarke set her jaw, and opened her mouth before she could fully process her words.

“That’s the reason I joined in the first place! I can make a difference: they are so short on medics. I didn’t join to follow some random crush across the world!” Raven’s face betrayed hurt for a split second, and she saw Lincoln take a step toward them. Raven recovered quickly, however.

“Well, you were shit at making a difference for _him_ , weren’t you?!” Clarke recoiled, but stood her ground.

“There was no other way! You weren’t there! The whole squad was depending on me! Do you think I wanted to shoot him? He was dead anyway! His fucking carotid was severed! And we were able to secure the building and escape. Finn…” she choked only slightly on his name, and noticed Raven was crying silently. She lowered her voice calmly and went on, “I know that you loved him, Raven. I’m truly sorry that you lost him, that I was the one to cause you all this pain. If I could’ve…” She trailed off as Lincoln pulled Raven into his arms. Raven went limp as he rubbed her back. Clarke was startled when her hand was taken by Lexa, and turned to find green eyes shining.

There was no immediate need for words, just comfort offered from a woman she’d known only a few months. Clarke felt her heart jolt, but quelled her rising emotions quickly and allowing Lexa to just be there. Her body was still sore all over from the previous day, and her entire future had definitely changed in the last 24 hours, but for a moment, Clarke took what Lexa offered. She turned as Raven cleared her throat, stepping back from Lincoln once again.

“I need a minute,” she mumbled, limping into her own room. Lincoln raised his eyebrows at Clarke and she nodded toward the door. Lincoln headed that way without another word, grabbing his jacket on the way out. Clarke tugged Lexa to the couch.

“Come on, we need to talk.” They sat sideways facing each other, their hands still tangled. Lexa immediately drew her free arm over a bent leg, leaning her chin on her knee. Clarke thought that, as controlled as Lexa’s expression normally was, Lexa was letting more show than she truly meant to.


	14. Aftermath

Clarke wouldn’t look at her (after one fleeting glance when they’d first sat down), but after a moment her face had flashed with - what? Guilt?

“Remorse does not suit you,” Lexa finally noted, and Clarke’s blue eyes snapped up while her hand drew back as if Lexa was suddenly burning. Clarke scowled.

“Uncertainty doesn’t suit you.” Lexa sighed. One of the things she most liked about Clarke was her ability to read people. Clarke was able to make quick (and, as in this case, accurate) judgments and act. Lexa _did_ feel uncertain, and she found herself annoyed that Clarke had identified the feeling before she herself could process it. Before her thoughts could spiral, she felt Clarke retake and squeeze her hand.

“Have I told you how cute your pout is?” Clarke asked lightly, and oh Lexa realized that Clarke was deflecting. Knew how _often_ Clarke avoided talking about things that made her uncomfortable. After witnessing Raven’s explosive outburst, though, she allowed Clarke the time she needed.

“I do not pout, Clarke.” A free finger reached up to bop her nose.

“You’re doing it right now, Lex.” Lexa rolled her eyes but stayed quiet again. They sat in silence, and normally Lexa enjoyed silence - she _encouraged_ it in most people, in fact - but Clarke’s inability to address the very big and new issue was making her feel…more than she expected. Not just uncertainty, as Clarke had said, but also something in the realm of anguish. The thought surprised her. The quiet was broken as loud thumps came suddenly from Raven’s room and the girl emerged with a bang. The three of them stared at each other briefly before Raven made her way to the front door. She paused as she opened it, turning back to the room.

“Wick needs me at work. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She stepped over the threshold.

“I’m not leaving until tomorrow,” Clarke called. Lexa saw Raven nod tersely before pulling the door shut behind her, and then she was alone with Clarke.

“Tomorrow.” Lexa murmured, expending great effort to keeping her body language open rather than defensive. Blue eyes bored into hers, bright and open and longing. Lexa was unprepared for the emotion present in those eyes. It made her shift nearly imperceptibly in slight discomfort (she _knew_ Clarke noticed).

Lexa brought her hand up to tuck an errant blonde hair behind Clarke’s ear, then drew her hand down and cup her face. After a moment, Clarke turned just enough to kiss Lexa’s palm. Lexa brushed the single tear that had escaped the blue eyes, hand shaking slightly. She brought her thumb down to soft lips, noting as she did so that the lips trembled as well. Lexa pulled gently until Clarke’s forehead was resting upon her own.

“How are you so good, Lex?” Clarke asked after a moment. They breathed one another in for a beat before Lexa leaned back slightly and smiled softly.

“We are what we are, Clarke.” Clarke tilted her head, eyes examining Lexa’s full expression before saying,

“You’re such a philosopher sometimes.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “You make me feel calm when…” She trailed off abruptly, then got to her feet. Lexa missed the warmth right away as Clarke moved to the kitchen. While Clarke tinkered around, Lexa propped her chin on the back of the couch, watching her as she got lost in thought.

Lexa had met Octavia, Raven, and Lincoln in the lobby the previous evening (not planned) and they’d all climbed the stairs together. Raven had grumbled a bit before Octavia had threatened to withhold the bottle of wine she’d evidently brought for a ‘wine and whine’ night, and also mentioned that as Raven’s Physical Therapist, she knew Raven was perfectly capable of climbing the stairs to the eleventh floor. As they ascended, Raven had all but forced Lexa to join them as “Clarke’s just going to call you over anyway, and you _must_ have something you wanna get off your chest.” Lexa had, in fact, had a fairly terrible day. Byrne had called from London with a request for assistance on a case, which was the correct decision, but Lexa didn’t want to travel at the moment. She’d been in a mood all day about it. Caris, who had lasted longer than most, had been especially jumpy.

Lexa had only opened her own door to throw her heavy coat inside before joining the party, but it was enough time for the other three to find Clarke. Lexa had seen anxiety attacks before, but never one as massive as the one Clarke had been going through. It had torn her heart to see Clarke experiencing one. It had taken so long to get her re-focused that Lexa was surprised Clarke hadn’t passed out. 

It was clear by the amount of worry and shock emanating from Raven and Lincoln that, despite the nightmares Lexa knew Clarke suffered, her anxiety wasn’t a thing that either of them had experienced. Octavia was actually more initially helpful, having no preconceived notions that ‘Clarke was too strong for this to happen to her’. Lexa had worked a lot with folks in the military - at all levels - to raise awareness on the effects of stress and experience on the mind. So many of the cases her company examined could’ve been prevented had proper care been offered to and/or accepted by service members and veterans.

Clarke reappeared at the couch with coffee, and Lexa took it eagerly (Clarke chuckled). After a couple of sips, she put the mug down.

“Is there anything I can do, Clarke?” The woman was staring down into her coffee, and for a moment, Lexa thought she hadn’t heard her question. As she opened her mouth to rephrase her approach, Clarke turned and sunk back into the couch, letting out a deep breath.

“I didn’t think I’d go back.” Clarke’s eyes flicked to Lexa before focusing away. Lexa knew that she just had to listen; it was a surprise that Clarke was opening up at all. After a bit, Clarke went on. “Even though I deferred my choice, my mind was made up. You give enough of yourself and then move on. Lexa, I _am_ moving on.” She turned her body, putting her mug next to Lexa’s, pulling one of Lexa’s hands between both of her own. “Everyone has been so amazing, and I met you and started painting again and _finally_ had a civil conversation with my mother.” She smiled ruefully. “Then they called me and a completely different answer came out.” Lexa felt soft fingers caress the inside of her wrist.

“I wasn’t...prepared in any way for that reality.” After a moment of indecision, Clarke went on, “They offered me a job where I could help prepare people so they don’t have the same learning curve that I experienced.” She shrugged slightly, “Guess I had more to give after all.” She paused long enough that Lexa spoke.

“I understand.” Clarke quirked an eyebrow in a silent question (Lexa recognized the expression as one Clarke had picked up from her) and Lexa continued. “Sometimes the choices we make surprise even ourselves.” Clarke was still looking at her, so Lexa continued. “I grew up on bases with no thought to _not_ joining the military. Then, when my father pulled up to drop me off at the academy, I told him to keep driving. I transferred into an Ethics and Law program instead of following the path that I had expected.”

“That’s...I guess I see what you mean.” A one-shouldered shrug, then a sigh and blatant attempt to steer the conversation away. “So. Ethics and Law, huh?” Lexa nodded.

“I founded a company that consults internationally on cases.” She hesitated to continue, knowing _why_ Clarke had been contacted after all these months was because an investigation was completed. In the end, she decided to tell her as much of the truth as she could. “We provide independent opinions and conclusions of operations and management of...difficult occurrences. Find the truth and morality of decisions made with unintended consequences.” Clarke’s fingers stilled against her hand, but Lexa met her eyes before going on with determination. “Many of our clients are military branches.” Clarke recoiled in instant betrayal.

“What...the _fuck_ , Lexa. Are you telling me...do you _know_ …” Clarke jumped up again, putting space and furniture between them. Lexa stood but did not follow her.

“There is a good chance that my company is…”

“Yeah, no _shit_. Got that part. What the _actual_ fuck?!” Lexa watched as Clarke balled up her fists, noticed the slight wince as her broken hand was bent too far, noticed also that Clarke hadn’t moved completely away from her. 

“I promise that I have no personal knowledge of your situation in particular. Lately my focus has been on our London office, which deals primarily with corporate European consulting.” Clarke relaxed slightly, the set of her jaw becoming softer. After a minute, Clarke met her eyes again.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay, I trust you don’t know for sure. But,” Clarke bit her lip, “would you be able to check?” Lexa nodded at the same time she answered,

“I would be able to, but that does not mean I would without your permission.” Clarke was surprised. “I am serious. Because we know each other, I could claim conflict of interest _if_ anything ever came across my desk.”

“And if I wanted you to know? If I _wanted_ to tell you?” Clarke sagged against the couch, voice small. Lexa stepped directly in front of her, putting her hands on Clarke’s shoulders.

“Then I would listen,” she simply said, and suddenly Clarke was wrapped around her in a tight embrace.

“ _Thank you_.” Came Clarke’s husky murmur in her ear. They held one another tightly for hours or minutes or seconds - all time ran together in that moment and Lexa felt undone.

* * *

“I wish I could paint you like this,” Clarke said as they strolled through the city after a late lunch. The afternoon sun shone off of Clarke’s light hair as Lexa turned to look. “Your eyes in the sunlight turn this awesome mint color and your skin is so...glowy.” Lexa laughed.

“Artists are supposed to be better with adjectives, yes?” She teased. Clarke rolled her eyes.

They’d spent the whole day together, talking about everything and nothing. They’d hit the major subjects of family and war, and minor subjects like movies and travel experiences. Lexa had listened as Clarke described some of what she’d been through, feeling the heavy weight of agony settle before Clarke regaled her of stories of massive pranks that Lincoln (!) had pulled off overseas. The day had been a rollercoaster.

“Glowy _is_ an adjective. It is the perfect adjective for your skin, Lex.”

“Most would use ‘glowing’ instead.”

“Semantics.” Clarke waived her hand dismissively. Lexa smiled widely. They were nearing their building now, so Lexa tugged them to a stop.

“Whether my skin is ‘glowy’ or ‘glowing’, Clarke, I thank you for your compliment.” Clarke pulled her closer, and Lexa felt a _jolt_ in her stomach as her lips were captured in a sudden soft kiss. Lexa opened her eyes as, just as unexpectedly, Clarke pulled back, eyes searching.

“I’m sorry I’m leaving.”

“Don’t be.” Clarke swallowed and started to look away. Lexa darted her head to the left, following the other woman, ensuring that Clarke was looking at her before elaborating. “They are your people, you have to go back.” Clarke was blinking rapidly, eyes misting.

“You’re my people now, too. You and Raven. Octavia, Monty, Jasper; even your scary friend Anya,” Lexa felt a wet laugh bark out and Clarke’s face broke into a small smile at the sound.

“We will still be your people, Clarke, no matter where you are.” Clarke’s smile faded, and she bit her lip. Unable to resist, Lexa leaned forward and pecked her quickly. Clarke had a slightly pained look on her face when Lexa pulled back. “Come upstairs?” Lexa asked, starting to lead them into the building. Having an idea, she pulled Clarke past the elevators and into the stairwell. Clarke followed docilely behind as they climbed floor after floor before Lexa brought her to a stop between the 10th and 11th floors. 

“Lex?” Clarke’s voice projected her confusion. Lexa felt a full smile take over.

“I was standing here when I saw you the first time.” Clarke startled.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“You propositioned me within a minute of meeting me,” Lexa teased, stepping into Clarke’s personal space.

“You’re hot,” Clarke shrugged.

“I offered my window for the occasion.” Clarke’s eyes were darkening as she spun them and pinned Lexa against the wall, dropping her mouth to Lexa’s neck.

“I’ve used your window on multiple occasions,” Clarke pointed out between kisses and Lexa barely had the control to pull Clarke up to look directly into her eyes.

“Seeing as the window has not led to any of that type of activity…” Clarke cut her off briefly with a kiss. Lexa threaded her hands through Clarke’s hair, encouraging the kiss for a moment before leaning back enough to disentangle her lips, going on, “what do you say we just use the door?”


	15. Parting is such sweet sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up there's sexy times ahead...like pretty much right away.  
> .  
> .  
> .

“Tell me if you want to stop.” 

They had made their way from the stairwell to Lexa’s bedroom in a haze that Clarke barely remembered, but she pulled back at Lexa’s words. Lexa’s hands were playing with the hem of her shirt, hesitant. Clarke smiled and kissed the tip of Lexa’s nose, grabbing the shirt and pulling it over her head (Lexa’s shirt was already discarded behind them -- the kitchen? Or perhaps on the sofa?) and drawing Lexa into an embrace.

“Lex, it’s a miracle I’ve controlled myself as much as I have. I’m not about to stop now.” She felt Lexa’s fingertips skimming her marred skin and shivered. Pushing past her lingering discomfort, she leaned Lexa back onto the bed slowly. Hovering, she took in the darkened eyes, flushed cheeks, and slight panting.

“Clarke.” Her name coming in such a breathy tone spurred Clarke into action. Though tempted to devour the amazing woman in front of her, Clarke took her time working her way down Lexa’s body, pausing for brief moments at a collarbone and between still-clothed breasts. When Clarke nipped gently at Lexa’s hip bone, Lexa let out a small grunt.

“You make adorable noises, babe. Can’t wait to hear more.” Lexa mock-glared at her before retorting,

“Shut up and take my pants off.”

“Bossy. I like it.” Lexa just huffed and lifted her hips as Clarke dragged her jeans down and threw them on the ground. She ran her hands up the outside of Lexa’s thighs as she kissed her way back up slightly heated skin. Clarke was determined to map every inch of skin, but paused at the tattoo wrapping around Lexa’s ribs. Her fingers followed the ink until Lexa arched her back slightly so that Clarke could reach the hook to her bra. As Lexa was exposed, Clarke ran her hands around her breasts in ever narrowing circles, watching Lexa’s micro expressions as she did so.

Finally, she fully covered one breast with her left hand, alternately brushing her fingers up and down the goose-pimpled flesh and over the dark and pebbled areola while capturing the other nipple in her mouth. Lexa gasped above her, wrapping her legs around Clarke and pulling her closer. Clarke flicked her tongue lazily, revelling in the reaction she was getting. When she switched her hand and mouth, Lexa abruptly planted her feet on the bed and canted her hips into Clarke’s abdomen, making her pause as she felt the heat and dampness of Lexa’s center. _Impatient_.

Her free hand travelled down to Lexa’s hipbone as her mouth and hand were applied more forcefully - she started pinching the nipple in her hand at the same time she ran her opposite thumb from the contours of Lexa’s hip to dip just below the elastic of her underwear and back again, making Lexa mewl above her. Clarke eventually licked her way up to explore Lexa’s neck, keeping one hand on Lexa’s chest as she pushed her other deep enough to brush the start of Lexa’s short and kinky pubic hairs. Mouth tasting the salty skin just below Lexa’s jaw, Clarke felt Lexa’s pulse quicken slightly.

Giving in to what she knew Lexa wanted, Clarke pushed her whole hand beneath the elastic, her fingers ran parallel tracks up and down and around Lexa’s entrance, occasionally turning her wrist so her fingernails provided a slightly harder contrast. Clarke started slowly dipping a single fingertip inside Lexa’s ready entrance , coating herself in wetness up to her first knuckle. Then her second knuckle. Clarke felt Lexa’s hands searching for purchase along her back as she added a second finger, feeling tight walls flutter around her as Lexa _whined_.

There was enough lubrication that Clarke was able to easily bury her middle and ring finger as far as they would go. She started to move them slowly in and out as she caught Lexa’s mouth in a searing kiss, feeling the other woman’s hands tangle themselves in her hair. Clarke curled her fingers inside Lexa, searching for a sensitive spot as she continued to move in and out. She knew she found it when Lexa broke their kiss and _jerked_ , panting heavily even as her hips started to move along with Clarke’s thrusts. Turning her mouth back down to Lexa’s jaw, Clarke brought the heel of her palm deliberately into contact with the small bundle of nerves that she’d thus far avoided. Lexa released her hair and clamped down on the sheets by her head, throwing her head back.

With more neck exposed, Clarke had more skin to explore, which she did even as she sped up her hand, alternatively hitting the spot inside and the button outside as she went. As Lexa’s breathing became more erratic and her inner walls started clenching, Clarke started pinching Lexa’s nipple with one hand and covered the other with her mouth again, running her teeth lightly over the peak. Lexa came suddenly, her whole body going stiff before her abdomen contracted and her arms and legs started shaking. Clarke leaned back to watch Lexa’s face as she withdrew her fingers from within Lexa to start circling her clit, smirking as Lexa’s eyes widened in surprise and caught hers.

It took the work of a few moments to bring Lexa to a second, smaller, orgasm. As Lexa shut her eyes again in ecstasy, small tremors still wracking her body, Clarke raised her sticky fingers to get a taste of _Lexa_. She flopped down on the open side of the bed, giving the other woman a minute to catch her breath again, pressing soft kisses on Lexa’s forehead, cheek, jaw, until Lexa drew her in for a sloppy kiss.

“Jesus Fuck,” Lexa breathed when they finally drew (briefly) apart. Clarke laughed as the normally composed Lexa struggled to collect herself. Of all the versions of Lexa she’d come to know, she liked this one the best - satiated but somewhat flustered. 

“Safe to say you enjoyed yourself?” Lexa mock-glared at her, but Clarke connected their mouths again. “I liked all the swearing. And the adorable noises...kind of a turn on, to be honest.” Lexa growled, surging up and straddling Clarke.

“I’ll get you back for that,” she claimed, starting her own exploration.

And she did.

* * *

Clarke had lost track of how long she and Lexa had rolled about when she realized that it was dark outside, and that Raven was probably wondering where she was. She managed to maneuver Lexa into the shower (where they got each other off again) before they got dressed and headed nextdoor.

Though expected, coming through the door to see a tense Raven sitting uncomfortably on a barstool was sobering. Raven looked up from her tablet as soon as the door opened, frowning at them. Clarke sighed but didn’t release Lexa’s hand: Raven was a smart lady who _definitely_ knew what she and Lexa had been up to. The three of them were silent until Wells exited the bathroom, freezing as he took in Clarke and Lexa before rushing forward and drawing Clarke in a bone-crushing hug. As soon as he released her, she stepped back next to Lexa, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“Hell of a couple of days, Clarke,” he said, looking blatantly between them. She shrugged, looking between him and Raven, who exploded again before she could speak.

“The hell, Jaha?! You’re supposed to…I thought you’d…” Wells drew back in surprise.

“You thought _I’d_ stop her from going back?” He turned to Clarke, “Can you even do that at this point?” Clarke shook her head, squeezing Lexa’s hand in need of support. Wells turned fully to Raven and softened his voice. “Raven. You are one of the most badass people I know…”

“Damn straight,” Raven muttered. Wells smiled indulgently before going on.

“That being said, I will _always_ support Clarke. She is my sister in every way that matters.” Raven opened her mouth, but Wells held up his hand in a ‘wait a moment’ gesture, walking slowly to where she sat and putting his hands on her shoulders. “She is capable, strong, resilient, everything that embodies a proud service member. If she feels she still has something to give, I say…”

“But what if she gives her life!” Raven burst out. Seeming surprised that she’d said it, she turned away from Wells (from all of them) and hopped off the stool. Clarke released Lexa’s hand and walked next to her friend.

“Raven. Look at me,” she waited until Raven turned around and pulled her into a quick embrace. Pulling back, she leaned against the waiting Wells before speaking again. “Part of me recognizes that my training compels me to go back, to give more of myself.” Raven (and Lexa) seemed to flinch at that - Lexa had probably seen or heard the same thing growing up, and Raven definitely knew what she was talking about. “ _But_. A bigger part of me...it’s not an obligation - it’s a calling.”

“I thought you were building a life here,” Raven spoke quietly. Clarke sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“I have built a life here,” she said, looking at all of them. “You’re right about that. You all are my family, and I will be back, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Sarge. Finn...he told me he’d be back and I had to bury him.” Clarke only flinched minutely, but she knew Raven didn’t mean it as an accusation this time.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “There’s no guarantee: I’m able bodied and I have experience. They said I was going more into a training role, but who knows. I’ll keep in touch as I can.”

“Pendleton?” Clarke nodded, relieved. Raven’s face took on a teasing quality. “Gonna do some tanning in SoCal?” Clarke laughed (it was somewhat forced, but no one said anything) and just like that, the conversation turned to other things - namely if Clarke would be able to drink all her “non-Raven friendly alcohol” (“yes, dammit, what type of Marine do you think I am?).

The remainder of the evening was filled with card games and laughter interspaced with somber moments. In a blink of an eye, Raven and Wells had retired into Raven’s bedroom (“don’t leave without saying goodbye”) and Clarke was holding Lexa tightly against her as her body refused to sleep.

* * *

Lincoln was waiting downstairs to take her to the airport. It had been a small argument on who would take her, but in the end Clarke had managed to convince everyone that saying goodbye in private would be better. Her bag was packed - it really was time to go. Wells pulled her into a gruff hug and had just released her when there was a banging on the door. Raven opened it and Abby Griffin spilled in, frantic.

“Did I miss saying goodbye?” She froze as she Clarke stepped forward to embrace her.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, and found she actually meant it. Her mother clung to her a beat, eyes misty.

“Of course. I love you, Clarke. I’ll always love you.” Clarke felt a wave of...something as her mother stood back and Raven threw herself forward (in a completely dignified manner, of course) for a bone-crushing hug, nearly lifting Clarke off her feet. She stepped back with a quick “take care of yourself, Griff,” into Wells, who gathered her close.

“I’ll walk you down,” Lexa offered. Clarke nodded and grabbed her bag, swinging it easily onto her shoulder. In the doorway she paused and turned to the room.

“Goodbye.”

The door closed, and she heard Raven loudly offer her mother breakfast before she followed Lexa to the stairwell. In sync, they paused between floors 10 and 11. Clarke dropped her bag and pulled Lexa into a long, desperate kiss. They broke apart eventually, breathing heavily.

“One day,” Lexa whispered. Clarke leaned in and kissed her again.

“One day,” she answered.

Lexa left her at the bottom of the stairwell, misty-eyed as she whispered: May we meet again. Clarke pulled herself away and didn’t look back as she passed through the lobby, waving to David Miller, who stood and saluted. She nodded and returned the gesture before heading outside.

Lincoln was leaning against the passenger door of a slightly rusty gold Plymouth Voyager, the back hatch open. Silently, they nodded to each other and Clarke loaded her bag. When the doors were closed and they’d started rolling, Clarke spoke sharply.

“The van?”

“Octavia’s brother’s wife’s. Gina. Nice lady.”

“Moving fast, Lincoln. Did you do a sweep?”

“We’re clean, Sarge.”

“Good. I need you to do two things for me, but only if you feel you can stay safe.” Lincoln glanced at her briefly as they were stopped at a light, and nodded.

“First, tell Murphy to go to ground. Right away, code 452.” She waited until he acknowledged with a serious frown, and contemplated how to frame her next request. They were near the airport exit when Lincoln followed up.

“And the second?” Clarke exhaled loudly before speaking.

“Get me everything you can on Mount Weather.” Lincoln jerked violently, but his training kept the van straight.

“ _Clarke!_ ”

“If I could ask someone else, I would. Octavia checks out, I ran her before Raven started seeing her. Use Lexa if you can, she’s got more resources than we know.” He glanced at her again as they pulled up to the airport dropoff. “I honestly didn’t know before yesterday, so check her first.” She paused before opening the door when Lincoln laid his hand over hers.

“What are you tangled in, Clarke?” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Can you do those things for me?” he paused a beat too long and she got out of the car. He met her at the back of the minivan and grabbed her bag. She turned toward him, question still in her eyes.

“Yes.” (Clarke knew that was the answer to her previous inquiry). “You take care of yourself, and don’t be a stranger. Enjoy the ocean, Sarge.” He pulled her in briefly, then got back into the driver’s seat and was gone.

Clarke drew her shoulders back and entered the airport alone.


	16. It all becomes clear (read: more confusing) in a basement

Uncharacteristically, Lexa let her bag drop the moment she made it into her apartment. Pushing the door shut with a soft click, she stumbled to her couch and collapsed, exhaustion getting the better of her.

It had been a long three months of throwing herself into work, becoming involved at levels that were far beneath her capabilities. Indra had wisely kept her mouth shut about Lexa’s sudden push for something to do, but lesser employees had been fired for implying that Lexa was pushing herself too hard (Caris may have been one of these, but Indra had talked her into reassigning the woman elsewhere instead). The only time Lexa had carved for herself outside of work was when she set aside time to train with Anya, who let her physically wear herself out day after day with only a raised eyebrow for comment.

Lexa had even considered moving, her memories of Clarke lingering at the sight of her own bed, at Raven in the corridors (Lexa was becoming particularly adept at dodging the woman), at the art piece that still hung on her wall.

Lexa had never experienced loneliness quite like this before.

She hadn’t been prepared for how Clarke’s sudden absence in her life made her _feel_. Lexa recognized that both she and Clarke were guarded people (they had to be, with what they’d both endured), and that was why things had progressed so _slowly_ with them. It had felt like the _right_ pace for them. Until it wasn’t.

Lexa didn’t think their being intimate was a _mistake_ , not really, but it did magnify the fact that she and Clarke had started something, and they weren’t really finished.

She heard her phone buzz from her bag and glared to the empty room, stubbornly sitting an extra moment before she made her way back to the doorway to start rummaging.

Her new assistant, Tris, had added a last-minute appointment for tomorrow. Lexa looked at her schedule, confused. Tris was new this week, but surely even she knew to add a subject line? Lexa decided that it didn’t matter, and slumped her way to the shower (where she did not think of Clarke pinned to the cold tile), figuring that it was either a mistake or that it the meeting would cut down her free time.

She was secretly hoping it was the latter.

The following afternoon, Lexa, annoyed, was thinking that Tris needed to be trained more in scheduling as she walked down the hall to her ‘meeting’. Lexa was only vaguely aware that they _had_ a conference room in the basement. The door was solid, and as she entered she noted that there weren’t any secondary exits, nor any windows. She also noticed the occupants with some confusion.

“Raven? Lincoln?” Lincoln was sitting calmly, but Raven had an energy about her that was disquieting. The third person in the room she didn’t know, but she quickly assessed him. He was young, with brown hair that was on the edge of shaggy. He looked nervous - his gaze never stayed in one place too long. He was sitting almost too close to Lincoln, and when the door clicked shut, he jumped.

“Miss Willows,” Lincoln started. She hadn’t seen him since-

“What is going on?” A feeling of uneasiness began to grow. It was a sense not quite defined, but the naseousness quickly spread from the bile in the back of her throat to her suddenly numb feet.

Raven stood up, at the same time pulling a folder from her lap and slapping in on the table. Lexa sat cautiously and waited for any of them to speak. Lincoln put his hand on Raven’s arm and she retook her seat before he started to speak.

“I apologize for the secrecy of this appointment, Miss Willows,” Lincoln started.

“Lexa.” They’d once had an entire conversation about bird calls - Lincoln knew her well enough to use her name. Lexa felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to rise.

“Lexa, then. We couldn’t let word of this get into the wrong hands.”

“Putting it on my calendar may not have been the best way to do that,” Lexa deadpanned. Raven’s face broke into a grin.

“We may have had a hacker friend of ours take care of it already. You should also tell your assistant to change her password to something less obvious.” Lexa huffed.

“I’ll be sure to do so. What is this all about?” Lincoln took a deep breath, trying to form words, but Raven lost what little patience she possessed first.

“We need your help.” Lexa tilted her head, eyeing the folder on the table. Raven pushed it toward her, but before she could open it, the young man she didn’t know spoke.

“Clarke didn’t return to service voluntarily.” Lexa felt the breath leave her lungs as she gaped at them all, suddenly overcome with what could only be called anger. Seeing even Lincoln wince at her expression, she reigned in her emotions until she was again in control.

“Explain,” she demanded. They looked at one another, seemingly trying to decide where to start. Eventually, Raven turned to her.

“Right, well this is new to me as of yesterday when Lincoln showed up at my work with Myles here in tow-” (Lexa filed the name Myles: she vaguely recognized it) “- going on about a secret ops team made up of some of Clarke’s squad.” Raven paused, and Lexa jumped in.

“Secret Ops?”

“Black Ops,” Lincoln corrected as Raven made a ‘po-tay-to, po-tah-to’ gesture. “A few of us took part in a covert operation just before we were deployed. It was domestic, infiltration of a facility.”

As Lincoln paused (he was a man of few words, despite now being a motivational speaker), Raven cut in.

“It was a building on the Mount Weather facility.” Lexa flinched at the name, and realized that they’d all been closely watching for her reaction (even Myles, who was suddenly studying her intently). Her palms began to sweat and her eyes darted down to the folder in front of her. She cleared her throat in an attempt to control her voice, her whole body now feeling numb.

“And?”

“And we achieved our objective, but saw things we weren’t supposed to.” Lincoln looked at Myles. “Clarke filed a report, but we were ordered never to discuss anything and we were deployed very soon after. Our deployment was even bumped up suddenly - the rest of the squad was confused, but…” his voice trailed off, shrugging.

“You know about Mount Weather,” Myles softly stated. He was still looking at her, eager for validation. Lexa shifted, and knew that they caught that motion, too, so nodded.

“We _knew_ that, kid,” Raven cut in, and Myles scowled at being called ‘kid’. From what Clarke had told her (because the name Myles had clicked suddenly), Myles was far from a kid, despite his youthful looks. Raven ignored him, apparently ignorant of his history, going on, “Monty was able to hack that far, at least.” Lexa was slightly alarmed that someone had hacked at least as far as to learn about investigations that were ongoing, and made a mental note to beef up electronic security. Again.

“I can’t go into our investigation with those not directly involved.”

“Do you have anyone on your team that has ever been in?” Lincoln asked. Lexa shook her head, her pulse beginning to race. Not with fear, but with excitement. If she had direct accounts...her mind spun with possibilities. She reeled herself in, needing more information.

“How...what does this have to do with Clarke?”

“Who do you think got us out of there alive?” Lincoln looked serious, but Lexa was confused.

“She led the team?” Myles was shaking his head.

“Our CO for the op was higher up, but ran things remotely. When everything went FUBAR, after we accomplished our primary objective, Clarke stopped listening to the idiot and took control.” Lexa wasn’t totally surprised about Clarke (though she had a passing thought on how she’d then gone on to keep her leadership position after apparently disobeying direct orders), but she wondered about the young man sitting in front of her.

“Pardon me, but aren’t you a little young for Black Ops mission?” Myles grinned and looked down and away. Lincoln answered for him.

“Myles was one of the most valued coders in the Marines, believe it or not.” 

“So I was a little delinquent in my youth, so what?” Lexa saw the bravado as a front, but didn’t say anything. Raven gave him a high five as Lincoln went on.

“While we were in the building, someone triggered something and our primary escape was blocked, so we had to find an alternative egress. A few turns later and we came to a room full of cages.” Lexa sat forward suddenly, having so many questions but not wanting to interrupt. Lincoln shuddered. “It was...a deplorable example of human cruelty.” He took a deep breath that Lexa assumed was to center himself again. “We were tight on time, we couldn’t save everyone. In the end, we only were able to evacuate one.”

“You…” Lexa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her words, which were normally so well articulated, failed her. “ _What?_ ”

“The woman we brought out with us was initially questioned but ultimately released. Just before we took off on our deployment, Murphy- he was on the Op with us- heard rumor that they were going to bring her back in. He told Emori to hide, even gave her his … more questionable … contacts to help her do it.”

“Also a delinquent. Fucking Murphy.” Raven muttered under her breath, and Lincoln looked to her.

“Yeah, well, he probably saved her life, doing that. When we got back from…being captives … I’m pretty sure he looked her back up and they’ve been together since.”

“They have,” Myles confirmed. Lincoln nodded.

“After Clarke told us she was going back, she requested that I be the one to drive her to the airport, remember?” Lexa nodded, and saw Raven doing the the same, looking annoyed. “She told me to get a clean vehicle, which was weird until she asked me to tell Murphy to go to ground and to get everything I could find on Mount Weather.” The silence in the room was deafening until he went on. “From what I can tell, when she got that call, she agreed to go back in, not as part of an Ops, but to train to infiltrate.” Lexa felt her heart skip a beat with anxiety.

“She...what?” Raven interrupted again.

“This is where I come in. With Murphy dark, no one else had sketchy contacts to figure this out. You’re welcome,” she looked at Lincoln, Lexa, and Myles in turn. “And, agreed isn’t probably the right word.”

“She was blackmailed.” Myles deadpanned. He stood up, leaning against the back wall, rubbing his hands down his thighs. “The CO for our ops was a commissioned officer, Roan Frost.” At the familiar name, Lexa spoke up.

“I know Roan, I’ve worked with him on cases before.” Lincoln tilted his head.

“Have you ever met his mother?” Lexa shook her head, but she had heard of the woman. Her rise up the ranks was...non-traditional, to say the least. Similarly to the Mount Weather project, she had skeletons in her closets, but no one had ever proven anything. Lexa’s mind spun with new possibilities.

“What are you saying, Lincoln?” It was Raven that answered, however.

“I’ve been able to determine that Nia Frost was the one to call Clarke. I think Roan was remiss in certain details of his initial report on the op, but somehow his mother found out and threatened to go public if Clarke didn’t cooperate.”

“This is still not confirmed,” Lincoln pointed out.

“But you _know_ it’s true,” Myles spoke. Neither Raven nor Lincoln disputed this. Lexa agreed as well, but knew it was a rabbit hole when there were more important things, and she needed more information.

“Clarke.” She prompted. Lincoln met her eye before speaking.

“She did fly to Pendleton initially a few months ago. I had a buddy of mine sending me updates - over forums, mostly, so it was pretty safe. Between Nyko’s information and Clarke’s check-ins with Myles, we’ve gathered that she was in some sort of intensive training, but she wasn’t part of any official unit that we can tell. I’ve been gathering all the intel I can about Mount Weather since she’s left, but I’ve hit a wall. Clarke told me to trust you when I dropped her off, and now we need your help.” Lexa swallowed as the three other people in the room looked at her.

“What do you need?”

“Lexa,” Lincoln said, “Myles was able to ascertain that The Coalition has been investigating, but we need to work together to jumpstart the case as soon as possible.”

“Why now?” Lexa asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

“Because no one has seen or heard from Clarke in almost two weeks, and we think she’s in trouble.”


End file.
